


A New Happiness

by SpazzticRevenge



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII-2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Child Abuse, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpazzticRevenge/pseuds/SpazzticRevenge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happiness was something they hadn't felt in a long time. It was a foreign word that had lost much of its meaning. All they knew of was sadness and grief, abuse and death. As their worlds collide, they see a bit of that long lost happiness inside of each other. With newfound friends comes newfound joy. Sometimes fate isn't as terrible as you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Darkness that Surrounds Us

A cool breeze graced Lightning's pale features as she stepped out from her home. Her lips quirked up slightly at the fact that the mugginess of summer was finally being stamped out by the coming autumn. Summer was another thing on that long list of things Lightning hated. It was hot, made her sweaty and uncomfortable, and brought all the sunshiny, happy, and all too friendly people out more than usual. It was also the fact that this season was forever marked as a sickening and mournful one that would bring her nothing but grief. For it was just one year and eight days ago, on a day filled with heavy summer heat, that she had lost the most precious thing in her life.

"Serah..." Her name fell from her lips in a soft whisper as her body trembled at the memory. The young woman felt her chest tighten and tears begin to form, but she pushed it all back. _No, I will not do this today._ It had been weeks since Lightning had left her house. Everyday had just been a painful reminder of what she'd lost. The last time she had tried to leave, she had almost had a mental breakdown in the middle of the store. So most days, since Serah's passing, she just laid around her home in her own broken state. Billions of reminders surrounded her, from Serah's empty room to the pink lip gloss that sat in the same place her sister had left it, all whispering and screaming of Serah's absence. Yet if she left everything as it was, all of the signs that Serah once lived there, Lightning could imagine, even for just a moment, that her sister still existed in her world and could just come walking back in the door, a warm smile on her face accompanied by a giggle.

Lightning had decided that today would be different. She needed to pick herself up and find a way to at least live, as Snow had been reminding her lately. The hulk of a man was usually who helped Lightning out, delivering groceries, getting her mail, cooking her dinner, and even just checking in on her. At first she had been loath to accept Snow's assistance. She never liked the man and couldn't stand the thought of needing help. So the first few nights he'd come to give her a hand, she'd slammed the door in his face. But after the initial misery of her sister's death had subsided, and Snow had asked her to let him help her - for he felt he owed it to Serah and needed to be able to focus his energy on something productive - Lightning had reluctantly allowed it. In the end, to her dismay, the company was nice, every once in a while.

It was now eight at night in the town of Bodhum and the last rays of sunshine were retreating from the sky. Lightning cringed at the high pitched screams and squeals that she could hear from the beach dwellers not too far away. Pulling her hood up over her head, she began walking down the sidewalk, hoping to avoid any conversation with her fellow townspeople and the irritating tourists.

She walked with no real destination. There was no place she needed to be and no place that she wanted to go. This trip into the real world was just a nice change of pace and the refreshing cool air felt wonderful on her skin. Attempting to avoid any eye contact, Lightning took in the surroundings of her gorgeous seaside town. She missed being outside and seeing the lovely town she had lived in all her life. Missing Serah had just made it impossible to get out of bed most days. Lightning's loss and grief seemed to paralyze her, even though it had been over a year. So going out into town had become a feat she couldn't accomplish most of the time until today, when she'd dragged her sorry ass up and told herself she was going to quit depending on Snow.

Stopping and taking in a large breath, the pinkette decided to do something she hadn't done since the day they'd buried her baby sister. Visit her grave. She decided that that would be her goal for today.

Kneeling before the headstone with Serah's name so perfectly etched into it, Lightning couldn't stop the stream of tears that fell silently down her cheeks. It was times like this that the young woman realized how truly weak she'd become. When the task of simply holding back her emotions had become so unbearably hard. She didn't stay long, for her heart couldn't take the fact that she was technically sitting atop her sister's dead corpse packed beneath pounds of dirt. It was a sickening thought that had her leaving the second it entered her mind. It was then that she realized the time, almost ten.

As she picked herself up, she heard quiet sobbing. As she walked around her sister's grave and continued forward a few feet, peaking around a tall bush, Lightning found she wasn't alone. A young boy of maybe sixteen or seventeen knelt before a headstone, weeping quietly with his forehead brushing against the smooth surface. His shiny silver hair was illuminated in the night giving him an almost angelic appearance.

"I'm so, so sorry." The young man sniffed as he choked slightly on his words. Before he carried on, he wiped his face with his long sleeve, shoulders quaking with a shaky resolve. "I should have been there with you. At least then you wouldn't have been so alone." A hollow chuckle escaped from him. "And I wouldn't be so alone now"

Lightning left, not wishing to hear any more from the poor kid. She had enough grief of her own to deal with. Finding it to be late and there to be nowhere for her to really go, she headed home. Her bed sounded like a good idea right about now.

Slipping in her key, her mental alarms immediately went off. Her front door which she always made sure to lock before going anywhere, even to just get the mail, was unlocked. Lightning took a second to think. Maybe she forgot. It had been quite a long time since she had left the house. It was possible that she could have fallen out of habit.

No, she specifically remembered because her hand had been shaking slightly as she'd left, hindering her ability to slip the key in the lock. It had taken her a bit longer than usual, but she had most certainly locked the door. Taking a calming breath, Lightning slipped her key back into her pocket and pulled out her survival knife that had been strapped to her thigh. Cautiously, she stepped into the house, wincing at the creak of her door. Immediately, she noticed the light in the kitchen and what sounded like someone rummaging through something.

Deciding to leave the door ajar, she quietly walked towards her kitchen, listening intently to whomever had dared to break into her domain. Whoever it was, was going to be in immense pain really soon. Her heart was pounding harshly in her chest and her breathing was getting more labored by the second, but she stayed focused - focused on the fact that whoever this was, wouldn't stand a chance.

Lightning entered the kitchen slowly. Whoever the intruder was, was currently going through her walk in pantry on the other side of the room. So although she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her and most likely had no idea she was home. She prayed to the gods that no one else was anywhere else in the house and that there was only one person in that food closet. Based on her sharpened senses, she was pretty sure it was one person. Judging by the heavy stomping of boots, they were male.

Her eyes locked on the third drawer down next to her fridge. It held a pistol but she knew that whoever was there would hear her by the time she got it out. A silent sigh left her as she walked closer to her kill. When she had made it to the closet, she drew up her knife. She could hear the man on the other side of the door, inside the small pantry. He was definitely big. She looked down at the small knife in her hands. _It'll have to do._

Deciding to bite the bullet, she gripped her weapon and counted.

One.

Two.

Three.

She pushed herself out of position and spun around the door to face the intruder. Her eyes immediately widened and her body went rigid as she came to see Snow standing there. He was facing away from her, crouched down for his massive height was just a tad too much for the small pantry. The man was obviously looking for something and was blissfully unaware of the person behind him who was about to knife his sorry ass.

"Now where did she put that-" Turning around, his eyes went wide and he put his hands up. "Woah, Sis. Calm down, you're gonna hurt someone."

There was humor in his tone and that made Lightning think twice about lowering her weapon. "What the hell, Snow! I could have fucking just-Ugh." Flipping the knife closed, she sent a murderous glance towards the man before slumping into a chair at her kitchen table.

Snow chuckled as he dropped his hands and came out of the pantry. "What was all that about?"

 _He never gets anything, does he?_ "How did you get in here," she growled, a scowl marring her features.

"I uh... made a key... sometime last week." He cringed as she slammed her hand on the table and stood.

"You did what?" Lightning's nails dug into the wood of the table as she attempted to quell her anger.

Snow bit his lip and sighed, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. He didn't mean to scare her like that. He wasn't a moron, he knew he'd just frightened the hell out of her, but that really hadn't been his intention. He just wanted to check in on her and maybe grab something to eat. It had been a few days since he'd graced her with his presence. How was he supposed to know she'd actually leave her house? "So, you finally got some fresh air, huh? I'm proud of you." His goofy grin appeared on his face as he stood up.

Lightning gritted her teeth in response. "Get out."

The man shook his head at her expected cold demeanor and took a step toward her. "I'm sorry, Lightning. I know that I didn't-"

"I said get out," she barked as she stepped away from the table.

"I didn't mean-"

Feeling her fury become unbearable, she slammed her fist into his cheek as he became too close for comfort. "Fine. _I'll_ leave then." She stomped off and out the door, ignoring Snow's calls after her. She needed to get out of there. The roseate was thoroughly pissed and aggravated. Good intentions be damned, he had no respect for her privacy and desired space. She was tired of him looming over her all the time. As if he was waiting for her to fail or... succeed?

"Proud of me," she questioned, muttering to herself. "He can take that dumb ass comment and smirk and stick it up his-"

Lightning looked up from her spot as she heard quiet sniffles. Upon realizing that she had no idea where she'd wandered off to, she glanced around her, soon seeing that she was in the middle of Crescent Hill Park. _How on Cocoon did I end up all the way-_ Another sniffle brought her out of her head and her attention snapped to the young man currently occupying a swing just twenty feet in front of her. _It's the kid from the cemetery._

A loud sigh was heard from the young man as his phone went off in his pocket. He ignored it until the ring tone died out. His shoulders seemed to shake more after the call as it appeared to have upset him more. When the phone rang once more, she decided to speak up.

"Aren't you going to get that?"

The boy stiffened before he looked behind him, noticeably alarmed. The phone went silent as they just stared at each other. She took him in, seeing not only his reddened cheeks and tear track marks but also a nasty bruise clinging to his jaw. She also got the feeling that he looked vaguely familiar.

Lightning sighed and walked over to the swings, taking a seat beside him. He cringed and shied away from her to which she inwardly sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you, kid."

"What... Wh-what are you doing here?" He began slowly swinging again, his gaze still locked on the woman beside him.

"What am _I_ doing here? What is a kid like you doing at a park all alone so late at night?" She looked over to him to see his brow furrow, his swinging slowing.

"I'm sixteen, thank you very much and I can take care of myself."

Lightning smirked at his biting tone despite the shakiness present. The kid had some fight in him. "That jaw says otherwise."

His eyes lit with shock before being replaced with fury dulled by grief. "What do you care," he whispered back, sounding so much smaller then he did only a moment ago. A gasp escaped him as his phone went off again.

She watched the young man as he looked at the pocket containing the device. There was definitely fear in his eyes, but fear from whom? "You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?"

He nodded slowly. It was the only reason he hadn't immediately bolted from his spot when she'd announced her presence. "I... I live across the street. I knew your sister... a little. You're Lightning, right?"

She gaped at him, most definitely not expecting that response. Thinking for a few minutes, she remembered a hazy memory of Serah babysitting a kid across the street three or so years before. She had said he was one of the sweetest kids she'd ever met. Lightning also remembered Serah frequently coming home with trays and baskets of various treats from the kid's mom. The elder sister was always too busy to have paid much more attention than that, though. In fact, the kid's name was completely eluding her.

"I'm really sorry, by the way."

Lightning looked over to him again as he spoke, sadness threatening to break her in two.

"I wanted to come to the funeral, but I... Serah was a lovely person."

Furrowing her brow, she tightened her hold on the swing's chains before swaying some. "Yeah."

"I'm Hope, by the way." He held out his hand for her which she took. "Hope Esthiem."

She considered him for a second. This quivering boy did seem sweet. "Nice to meet you, kid."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not a kid." This earned a chuckle from the woman.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. It was a comfortable quiet that they were enveloped in. Lightning felt surprisingly at ease around the young man and as she looked toward him, she noticed a bit of his shaking had stopped. She thought to inquire about his bruised face, but decided it wasn't any of her business.

He jumped slightly as his phone went off again. "You should probably answer it this time. It could be your mom. I'm sure she's worried."

Tears immediately fell from his eyes, but he said nothing back. Instead, he reluctantly took the phone from his pocket and answered.

Lightning cringed as she heard the yell of a male voice on the other end, presumably his father. She could hear every word.

 _"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? YOU DON'T JUST RUN FROM A DISAGREEMENT! I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE SO SPINELESS! YOU GET HOME, RIGHT NOW!"_ Hope whimpered which did not go unnoticed. _"ARE YOU CRYING? STOP CRYING LIKE AN IMMATURE BRAT AND GET HOME, NOW! WE'LL DEAL WITH YOUR PUNISHMENT LATER! THE LONGER IT TAKES YOU TO GET YOUR ASS BACK HOME, THE MORE SEVERE YOUR PUNISHMENT WILL BE, HOPE!"_

It was a long minute before Hope dropped the phone from his ear and shakily put it back in his pocket. Lightning could guess where the bruise came from now, but she wasn't going to assume anything. "Are you okay?"

He attempted to put on a weak smile. "Yeah, dad just has a bit of a... temper sometimes. I guess I'll see ya around, Lightning."

She watched him wave and make to run, but she stopped him with a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Be careful, okay?"

He nodded, but didn't turn toward her in fear of her seeing his tears that were fiercely falling down his cheeks. He continued to run off towards his house, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Lightning sighed, running a hand through her hair. She shook her head as she thought about Hope, watching his swing still swaying from his quick departure. _I guess... I probably should have walked the kid home._

The air chilled considerably as she continued to sit there thinking about what Hope would have waiting for him at home. She wondered why his mom would allow his father to be that way with her son. She thought about whether Snow would still be rooting through her kitchen at home. And she considered going easy on him if he was. They were family, after all. Whether she wanted to admit that or not.

She decided to remain where she was, sitting there in the swing that she hadn't even been near since her sister was still alive.

_"C'mon. You gotta swing with me, Claire. Please?"_

Lightning's head swiftly jerked towards her sister's voice. She could see her as if Serah was there, swinging beside her. A small and tender smile formed on Lightning's lips as she watched her baby sister's form slowly fade away, soon replaced with the empty swing instead. A tear fell down her cheek as she decided that she really wanted to go back to bed now.


	2. The Emptiness that Consumes Us

_The quiet that dominated the room was haunting. Silence was all that thrived in the house that was once filled with loud, mirthful giggles. Lightning sat stiffly on the couch that felt cold and foreign to her now. As if that couch hadn't been in the family room, in that exact same position, with the same gray, lumpy, hideous pillows resting on the cushions, since her parents had been around. Everything felt wrong, dismal, and dark. A heavy dreariness climbed into her already thoroughly depressed soul, leaving the young woman to sit achingly still, silent screams of agony echoing through her mind. She felt a warm drop of water on the pale skin of her hand, accompanied by another, and then another, and yet another. Her brow slowly furrowed until the pinkette's eyes rested on the collection of drops sliding down her porcelain fingertips. Only then did she recognize and distantly acknowledge the fact that she was crying. Only then did she let a heart shattering cry break free from her throat._

_She succumbed to her grief, finally letting all of her pain out. She sobbed for hours, not caring for anything around her, nor for anything left in the world. The one thing that she had always had, the one person she had loved so dearly, was gone. There was nothing left to care for._

_It was only after almost five hours had ticked by and the pain of her face began to register, that her mind came back to the world now forever drenched in silence and darkness. Her eyelids begged to be closed for eternity, now being thoroughly pink, puffy, and incredibly heavy. Her nose burned and felt raw from being ravaged by her sleeves and thousands of tissues that she had no idea when or where she had gotten in her broken state._

_Lightning hastily wiped another tear from her stinging cheek, denial of the act soon taking place in her mind. Teeth mindlessly ripped across chapped lips, tearing the skin off, leaving small patches of blood in their wake. She shuddered to think of her appearance. The once strong-willed, stubborn and head-strong soldier reduced to a pathetic lifeless heap. Yet she couldn't quite find it in her to care._

_Serah was dead and thus, so was she._

* * *

Home sounded irresistibly good right now. The comfort of her bed and enticing silk sheets were practically calling for her. Her steps lacked their usual grace and quiet stealthiness, instead thumping heavily on the cold pavement. So much had changed in her since the passing of her sister, but she never dwelled much on this. What good came of it, really?

She approached her quaint little home that now belonged not to a family, but to her and her alone. Sighing as she came to her porch, her mind wandered in the direction of the scared teen she'd met not an hour ago. A weary glance was cast towards the larger house across the street. All lights were off. Not a peep was to be heard from the home that told of its occupants enjoying a night's rest.

A brow raised in intrigue as her gaze found the front porch steps. There, sitting with his arms resting on his knees and his head buried inside them, was Hope. _Was he not just yelled at to get home? I assume that meant inside. What the hell?_

Her heart told her to see if the boy was all right and question his current location, but her mind scoffed at her. It scolded her for caring. It was just some stupid kid with family problems. None of it concerned her. Why should she care? Besides she had an empty house to get to and a cold bed to be sleeping in.

Her boot landed on the first step of her porch before she clicked her tongue in aggravation. _If someone had helped us back then..._

He wasn't crying. He would not cry. He wasn't going to give his father the satisfaction of having his tears. He'd sobbed enough for one day anyhow. His breaths shook his body slightly as it came in shallow pants, stemming from denying himself the emotional release. Words rang in his ears that he wished for the thousandth time would go away.

_"You have to change, Hope. Or this'll be your life - loneliness and despair..."_

So locked in his mind he was that he didn't hear footfalls slowly getting louder and nearer.

"Kid?"

Hope's head shot up in fright, only for relief to soon flow through his veins. It was only his neighbor. She meant him no harm... hopefully. His eyes roved over her form for a moment, seeing how her noticeable misery and disheveled state did nothing to hide her beauty. The silveret said nothing in return, instead settling on a weak nod of acknowledgment before laying his chin back down upon his folded arms.

In turn, Lightning quirked a brow. "What are you doing out here? I thought your dad-"

"The door's locked," came his hushed reply. Emerald eyes remained firmly planted on the ground, even as his companion took a seat beside him. He could feel her eyes on him, silently judging him, but he shrugged it off, wondering why she cared to even speak to him in the first place.

 _Your dad can't let you in? Or your mom? You don't have a key? There isn't a spare?_ Those questions roamed through her mind before realization hit. The quaking of his body was obvious, as was the new brown bruise under his left eye and the cut on his lip. _It's a punishment. He's making you sit out here._

A wince was given and then a small nod, causing her to notice that she'd said that last bit out loud. "You should go back home," he paused as if in deep thought before continuing, "Ms. Farron. It's late, you should get some rest."

She chuckled silently at the title and the fact that the kid was telling her what to do before concern dominated her state. "Have they done this to you before?"

"My father does this when..." _When he doesn't want to see my rotten face anymore..._

"For how long," she inquired, a small fury burning inside her. These kinds of people were the reason she opted to hating the rest of the human population.

A soft sigh fell from paling lips. _All night._ "It's fine. Really, you should go." _Not that I mind the company, I really don't, but if he sees you..._

A cool breeze blew over the two, causing Lightning to tug her sweatshirt closer to her body. Noticing the boy shiver and bury his face into his arms, she realized that he no longer had his jacket, only a thin long sleeve shirt, baggy jeans and socked feet. _His bastard of a father didn't even lock him out with shoes._ "Well, you're coming with me, kid." Rising up from her position, she turned to face him, seeing a look of worry on his now visible visage. "I'm not gonna leave you out here to freeze."

Hope shook his head. _I can't leave. I'm not allowed._ "Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine. Besides, do you always just invite complete strangers into your house at odd hours of the night? I could be a psycho murderer," he exclaimed with a small smirk.

The roseate rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip. "Please, I doubt you could harm a fly." _And you're a stick. Seriously, when was the last time you ate?_ "C'mon, I suppose I could use the company. And... Serah spoke very highly of you. My sister was rarely wrong when it came to people. I doubt you've changed much in a few years." Lightning then turned and began walking back to her humble abode.

 _You'd be surprised,_ Hope thought as he watched her walk away and than glanced at his house apprehensively.

She thought he was really going to sit there all night and ignore her invitation that stunned even her. _Since when do I invite people to my house? Especially total strangers? Snow has to practically wrestle with me to get in the door._ But something about the kid and his situation struck a chord deep within her and she found herself _almost_ smiling when he followed her inside.

Shutting the door behind him, she took note of Hope's rigid form standing just inside, completely unsure of what to do with himself. An awkward silence fell over the two as they stood there, Hope gazing around her place as Lightning mused over the fact that her house was quiet. _The door was locked and I don't hear any giant feet stomping around. Snow must have left._

A chuckle cut through the thick quiet that hung over them. "I was so busy thinking about how weird and stupid it was to offer your home to strangers in the middle of the night, that I didn't even think about how idiotic and suicidal it would be to accept such an offer from a stranger. I mean... _you_ could be the psycho murderer in this situation." This was accompanied by wide eyes displaying mock fear as he stepped away.

Lightning's lips quirked upwards slightly before she began walking toward the kitchen. "Yes, I eat children. Since you were so willing to come in here, why don't you just jump right into the oven for me?"

"I'm not a child," Hope grumbled with a pout.

The elder could only laugh quietly to herself. She gasped as she caught herself in the action. When was the last time she had laughed? "Then I guess you're safe. You want something to eat," she asked as he walked into the room and situated himself at the table.

 _Why is she being so nice?_ "No, really, I don't wanna be any trouble."

Confusion descended upon her brow. _Did I not just offer? Why would I offer if it would be troubling._ "It's not a problem. I was going to have a sandwich. It's not that much of a task. I'm sure it wouldn't be too straining to make two," she replied sarcastically. Really, the young woman just wanted to sleep. But it didn't take a genius to see that the kid needed food. If her eating too made him more comfortable... _Maker, why do I care?_

"I don't want to be a burden."

The response had been almost inaudible, but her sharp hearing had caught it. She glanced at the boy who was timidly fiddling with a bandage on the palm of his right hand. _Does he really make you feel that small?_ "You're not, kid." And in all honesty, he wasn't. He was so quiet and reserved, the complete opposite of most his age. She was thankful for that, really. The last thing she needed was a hormonal teen rampaging around her home. Yet, at the same time, it saddened her. Part of her knew that this fearful and timid nature was due to his situation at home.

They ate in silence after that, both unsure of how to communicate further with one another. It had been so long since Lightning had talked to someone sincerely and good naturedly. And she hadn't been that social of a person to begin with.

Hope, on the other hand, was dying to talk, he just didn't know what to say and didn't want to anger his new friend. The last thing he needed was to have another person in his life hate him. So, he just chomped quietly on his sandwich. It was ham, not his favorite in the least, but he wasn't going to complain. He was content, happy that she had offered him food in the first place. In addition, he was starving. He hadn't realized it had been so long since he had eaten. _But I have been out all day..._

The elder watched Hope from the corner of her eye as he soundlessly yet hurriedly ate - as if it was the last sandwich on Cocoon and would vanish the moment his mouth left it. He finished his meal while Lightning had only consumed a quarter of her own.

He smiled bashfully as he stood up from his seat. "Thank you... Ms. Farron, but I should probably be going now." _Before my father finds me gone._ Before the boy could take a step, Lightning stepped in front of him.

The name was humorous the first time, but now it was just irritating and made her feel much older than twenty-one. She frowned as she found that she couldn't meet his eyes. His gaze was stuck to the floor again. They'd rarely made eye contact since they'd met due to this. She slid a finger under his chin and tilted his head up, almost forcing him to look at her. "The name's Lightning, kid. None of that 'Ms. Farron' crap. And you should look at people when talking with them. It's not only rude not to, but it can give others the idea that they have power over you if you're always looking at their shoes. You don't want that, right?"

The young man was very confused by the woman in front of him and her odd concern for him, but he nodded anyway. When he noticed that this action was hindered by his chin still in her grip, he gave her a verbal reply. "Y-Y-Yes." _Yes, Hope. Because stuttering doesn't give others power over you either._

"Are you sure?" Her brow raised with her question as she carefully kept eye contact. He was trying hard not to shake in her grasp, she could tell. She could only wonder if he was afraid of all physical contact or if she was being too harsh. She was known to be very cold, but that never mattered much to her before.

Hope huffed before wriggling his chin out of her grasp. "Of course I am." His eyes widened when he realized that he'd barked at her and was about to apologize when he saw a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Okay." She went into the living room and into a small closet by the door, leaving a baffled Hope to follow. "Now I want an honest answer, kid," Lightning stated as she rummaged through some blankets. "How long do you usually have to sit out there?"

"All night," he whispered.

"What was that?"

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. "All night."

"I thought so."

Was it just his imagination or did she sound angry? When he saw her set a blanket and pillow from the closet on the couch, presumably for him, he shook his head vigorously. "I gotta-"

"If you want to sleep on those steps in the cold air, be my guest. But I'm just saying," she put a hand on his shoulder and gestured to the couch, "you don't have to."

With that, she went upstairs. Hope sighed and thought hard about his decision. He really didn't want to anger his father. If he woke up and didn't find his son where he'd told him to stay... Hope shivered. But his porch wasn't comfortable, at all. He knew that from experience. _As long as I'm back before he gets up, I should be fine._ Setting his alarm for six-thirty a.m. and climbing under the covers, Hope relaxed. This was nice. Lightning was a nice person after all, just like her sister had said.

_"Oh, that's just my sister. She can be so mean sometimes, but she's got a good heart. Trust me, when she's not being the ice queen, she's really sweet."_

Lightning stared at her survival knife as she undid the strap from her thigh. It was amusing to think that she'd used the knife Serah gave her to almost kill her sister's fiance. Amusing in a slightly morbid sense, anyway.

Keeping a tight grip on the weapon, Lightning threw herself onto the bed, bouncing slightly after landing. She didn't have the energy to change into night clothes, so instead she just laid there, waiting for sleep to claim her. Thoughts entered her mind briefly of how she could possibly be slain in her slumber by the shy neighbor boy she'd so freely let crash in her house. She chuckled. "What a way to go that would be."

Both laid awake for a few more minutes, parallel thoughts running through their minds.

_Why are you doing all of this for me?_

_Why do I care so much?_

_"You're not heartless, Claire. One day, you're going to realize that and show others that, too..."_

* * *

Lightning awoke to the sound of her front door shutting. Rays of the awakening Phoenix shone through the dusty blinds on her window, shining into her eyes. The blinding light elicited a groan from her as she attempted to block it from sight with the crook of her elbow. She tried to grasp at that last bit of sleep before it was too late. Letting out a huff as she realized that she was too awake to fall back into her blissful slumber, Lightning let her arm carelessly fall back to her side. A glance to her alarm clock on her side table was given to see that it was seven-twenty in the morning. _Odd. I usually sleep later._

The back of her hand rubbed against her eyes in order to fully awaken. She paused momentarily as she felt a heavy build up of crust around her eyelids. "Must have cried in my sleep again," she mumbled to herself. It was usual. The dreams of better times with her sister and the nightmares of Serah's death normally elicited the response from her during the night. She could vaguely remember her dream last night. It was when her parents were still alive. When they were a family and were whole and happy. Before her father's tragic demise. Before her mother's insanity consumed her. Before the elder Farron had to suddenly grow up and take on the tasks she was completely unprepared for. Before the only last bit of light in her life was taken from her.

With a sigh, the girl picked herself up and shuffled out of the room to check on her new little friend. It was a wonder why she was helping the kid out. She'd never been one for charity before. Plus, she really didn't know the kid at all - besides their brief meeting and Serah's stories from years prior. For all she knew, the kid could be a selfish, bratty rich kid that deserves a good smack every once in a while to set him straight.

Then again, that didn't seem right at all. Even though she barely knew him and hadn't paid much attention to his presence before, she could sense something good in him. Something pure. He seemed like a genuinely sweet boy. A bit broken by certain circumstances, but very polite and sickeningly kind nonetheless. And even under that terrified and shy demeanor, there was a kid with a backbone, though buried deep inside. _He needs to stand up for himself more, be more assertive. Of course, being your father's punching bag would really shatter your sense of security and trust in people. Not to mention cause your self esteem to crumble if your own family treats you like dirt._

A light yawn could be heard from her as she walked into the kitchen, her eyes groggily watching the floor pass beneath her feet. A smell assaulted her senses and she momentarily became alarmed. _He's cooking?! Dear Etro, don't burn down my house._ "Hey, kid, wha-"

"Heya, Lightning," called Snow from his seat at the table, his usual jovial self grinning from ear-to-ear. "Kid, huh? I haven't been called that in a while. You do know I'm actually older than you, right? Not by much, but still. And don't you usually call me something like buffoon or any of your other affectionate names for me? Kid is kinda just... weak." Snow punctuated his words with a wink before stuffing another forkful of pancake into his mouth.

The other occupant of the room just stood there, still surprised and now very aggravated to see that who she was expecting was very much not present and in his place was none other than her lughead of a brother-in-law. "What are you doing here? And where is Hope?"

The man gave her a confused look while considering her questions. "Who's Hope?" He looked around the room as if the person in question would suddenly appear. "No one else was here when I came in. I take it you didn't make this awesome breakfast, then? I thought that was a little weird. You don't like to cook."

Lightning scoffed. "It's not that I don't like to, I don't need to."

"Whatever. I just wanted to come by and make sure there were no hard feelings about last night, at the risk of another blow to my jaw and pride."

Shaking her head, the pinkette smirked. "I'm far too tired to give you the treatment you deserve."

"So... a back rub when you're more awake then?" Snow chortled when he received her famous death glare back.

"Maybe I have just enough energy for a good kick to the gut," she mused. "Don't tempt me further, Snow." Catching sight of a note stuck to the fridge with one of Serah's old rainbow magnets, Lightning's eyes scanned over the neatly written words.

_Morning Lightning,_

_Thank you very much for letting me stay over last night. Unfortunately, I had to be home rather early this morning and I didn't want to bother you. I hope you don't mind that I made pancakes. They're blueberry, like you like, correct? I believe Serah told me that once. I usually have a pretty good memory with things. If I'm wrong then, I deeply apologize. Coffee's made as well. Have a good morning and thanks again!_

_-Hope Estheim (not 'kid')_

Snow tilted his head at his sister-in-law who seemed to suddenly be in a brighter mood as she slipped the paper off the fridge and placed it on the counter. The behavior baffled him for a minute, but knowing that if he wanted to stay conscious, he should just leave it be. "So... Hope would be...?"

A small smile flitted across her features for the most minute of moments. "Just a kid."

* * *

Hope grew as pale as a ghost when he saw that his father's car was no longer in the driveway. He'd missed his dad before he went to work and would surely pay the price when the man returned home later in the day. _How could you be so stupid? You should have anticipated this. But how was I supposed to know he'd leave early? He's going to skin me alive, for sure._

A deep sorrow and fear overcame the silveret as he entered his house. He took comfort in the fact that he at least had some time to prepare for his father's harsh blows that were to come and could, for now, have some peace. Although, the foreknowledge of his coming punishment caused his stomach to twist in knots.

Seeing as he would probably be in too much pain later, Hope decided that he should take a hot shower to get clean and soothe his quickly fraying nerves. After quickly gathering his clothes, the boy scampered off into the bathroom across the hall, relishing in the serenity of the silent air, even though it was laced with the stench of vodka.

While humming a soft tune that his mother used to sing to him frequently, Hope tugged off his clothes, silently wishing that when he turned to the mirror he wouldn't be met with the usual sight.

A shell. That was all he was. That was all he saw when he looked at his poor, battered and abused reflection. He knew every time he undressed all he would see would be the scars, bruises, cuts, scrapes, everything that had become the norm within the past horrid months. It had been worse since summer started. His father no longer cared to keep his beatings confined to the less visible places on his body. He wouldn't be questioned since there were no teachers to see him and he had no friends. His entire body was a free-for-all for the elder Estheim's rage and grief.

"Maybe if you loved me more? Maybe if you didn't drown yourself in those toxic drinks every night? Maybe if mom were here to stop you? Maybe if it hadn't been my fault?"

_Maybe then I wouldn't have to fear you, dad..._


	3. The Devastation that Mars Us

_He deserved it. That was the first thought that had entered his mind after the initial shock had subsided._

_It shouldn't have hurt so much. He'd been bullied and beaten before, many times, in fact. But that first slap, that punch, that kick - that had been the most painful thing he'd had to endure in his life. How could someone he loved so much do something so utterly devastating to him? It just didn't seem to register in his mind. Any of it._

_And yet, he knew that the man had every right to hurt him. Hope had been the reason for his wife's demise. This was the price for causing such agony. Even if the pain never ended, even if this was what the future held for him for the rest of his life, even if his father would be the one to end up dealing him his own death, Hope would accept it._

_Hope laid there, beaten and broken in a small pool of his blood. Alexander laid at his side offering what little comfort he could. The large dog licked Hope's hand with a whine, staring into his human's eyes with sorrow and shame._

_Hope shifted and with the slight movement came a sharp cry of anguish. He quickly snapped his mouth shut, praying to Etro that his father had not been disturbed. A few terrifying seconds passed as he laid still, listening for the signs of another coming punishment._

_Nothing came, and Hope allowed himself to relax. Carefully and slowly, the young man brought his hand over his cherished pet's paw. He opened his mouth to speak, his words coming out scratchy, yet soft. "It's not your fault, boy."_

_Alexander couldn't have protected him. Hope didn't want him to. His father would just as easily turn his attention towards the dog and beat him without remorse as well. Hope couldn't have that. He needed his best friend. Alexander was all he had._

_His jaw clenched as he attempted to get up. A sharp, shooting pain alerted Hope to his side where a broken bottle of alcohol jutted out from his skin. That was going to take some time to clean and stitch up. And some serious time to heal._

_Hope was used to it, though. It had only been six days since the funeral, eight since his mother's death, but the beatings had been relentless._

_Alexander came up under Hope's arm and the teen gave him some of his weight. Together, they crawled their way to the bathroom where Hope could fix himself up. As Hope shut the door, he could see the faint glow of his father's television in the next room and hear his soft snores._

_Hope's father found peace in hurting his son. And Hope was going to have to live with that._

* * *

Lightning glared at the dust that had accumulated around her. She couldn't allow it to remain. The dust conveyed time. It only reinforced how much time Serah had been gone. How much time had passed since she'd used her pink lip gloss on the end table. How much time had passed since she'd used her favorite coffee mug that sat perched atop her school books near the kitchen. How much time had passed since her presence had made its impression upon their home.

Heaving a sigh to stifle the coming sob, Lightning made her way out her front door. The world outside was much more open, breathing gently on her pallid skin. The bright rays of Phoenix and screams of laughter only served to give her an instant headache and the air heavily laden with the scent of salt water caused her stomach to turn uncomfortably. Quickly, she strode to the mail box, retrieving its usual contents. The bright red lettering stamped across the front of the envelopes served only to drag her mood further down.

For how loud it was on such a brilliantly warm and beautiful day, it was actually comparatively more peaceful within the neighborhood than normal. The day wasn't as bad as it could have been - as the days previously had been. Sure, the weeds were eating at the grass that was struggling for life in its crisp brown state, the choppy buzz of her neighbor's push-mower was grating on her every nerve, and the cul-de-sac's gang of children were dangerously close to tossing their under-inflated football into her yard, but all those slight issues were just that, slight.

The only real problem Lightning had with it all was that everything related to Serah. Serah had always watered the grass at night and pulled the weeds when the need arose. " _The grass is alive, too, sis. It needs care and nourishment, just like me_ ," she'd say. Serah would always offer Miss Fisk, the old lady currently roving over Lightning's senses, to mow her lawn for her. The woman would always decline, saying that she was fifty-two, not a hundred, and was perfectly capable of doing her own yard work, though she appreciated the offer every time. " _Well, alright, but I'm just next door if you ever change your mind. I'm always around_ ," she'd insist. And Serah would always herd the restless runts of the neighborhood away from their area and even play with them for a while. " _It's good getting some more fresh air and exercise. And the kids are lovely_ ," she'd express when she was trying to coax Lightning into joining.

Everything, every single thing Lightning saw tinged her world gray, insufferable. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, hands clenched around the glaring reminders of her hefty debt, and looked toward the house directly across from her. The dingy green curtain of the second floor window shifted suddenly, closing any view from sight. Lightning let her eyes linger momentarily, watching for anything unusual. This was unnecessary, it seemed, as the front door slowly crept open before too much time had passed. One pink brow rose as a nose was visible first. A shiny black nose protruded from the space allotted, followed shortly by the rest of what was a rather large, stocky dog and the now familiar neighbor boy. Lightning's jaw clenched. The new abuse was obvious, as was the trembling on the young man's slender form as well as the fresh wave of anxiety swimming in his wide, wary eyes.

Hope's gaze caught hers before it fell to his porch floor-boards almost instantly. An irrational rage flew through her swiftly as she recognized the shame written in his expression. He took a visible breath before he faced her with a small, meager smile and began trudging his way toward her, happily panting puppy in tow.

"H-Hey, Ms.-I mean, Lightning. What's up?"

His voice was scratchy, the rims around his eyes an irritated red. The bruises were dark, horrid on his pallor. If this was what his visible skin looked like, she hated to think what was hidden conveniently from view. "Hey, kid." His huff of amused annoyance had her lips quirk up slightly. "Just grabbing the mail." She raised the stack of envelopes in the air as a show of validity, though it was unnecessary. It was a thoughtless gesture as well, seeing as the stamped proof of her lack of finances had been facing him and had now been brought to his attention. Hope didn't comment. She quickly flipped it around anyway.

"Yeah, doing the same," he replied softly. "Thought I'd take Alexander for a walk, too. He's been antsy lately."

 _I'll bet._ "I didn't know you had a dog." Although she wasn't a part of the neighborhood watch or anything, she liked to think that her observational skills would have picked up on the dog built like a mini linebacker living across the way. Or that Serah would have mentioned something…

"He, um… We don't get out much." Alexander could sense his anxiety and nuzzled against his hand, lending his support. Hope accepted the gesture, stroking his companion's head and behind his ears. Hope looked at Lightning, seeing her veiled interest in the dog. "You wanna pet him?"

She'd never cared for animals. Well, not since she'd had a child to practically take care of on her own. The allure of having a puppy or kitten had vanished with her childhood. "No, that's-" Her polite decline was cut off as Alexander gave her leg a big, sloppy lick before he nosed at her, seeking attention. "Okay, then." She resigned herself to stooping down low and patting the dog, only mildly disgusted as he licked her face with eager enthusiasm.

Hope laughed. "There's no denying him. Right, big boy? You want a treat?"

Alexander barked happily, making Lightning's ears ring. She blinked as a treat was held before her face. "I was unaware that I was deserving of such a culinary masterpiece," she drawled.

"Do you want to give it to him," he asked through his chuckles. Hope was glad that Alexander had taken a liking to Lightning. Understandably, he had become more wary of people and had taken to seeing most as a threat if any deigned to approach them.

Lightning observed how Alexander had responded to the offering. He didn't automatically lunge for the treat or try to snatch it from the boy's hand. He appeared to sense that it wasn't his to take yet. He sat and patiently waited. Alexander was obedient, she'd give him that. "How?"

Hope handed her the treat before procuring another from his pocket. "Simple. You can just hand it to him. You can toss it at him; he's a pretty good catcher. Or you can make him work for it." The teen held up the milk bone, wincing as the movement stung his injured shoulder. He tried to keep it from his expression, but it was a failed attempt. Lightning saw it. He knew she could see it. Alexander came and sat directly before him, waiting. "Up, boy!"

Lightning watched, a little impressed as the large dog stood up on his back legs. Hope spun the treat in a circle in the air and Alexander repeated the motion with his body, spinning around. Hope then spun the treat before the dog's face, this time closer to the ground. Alexander took this cue to roll over and lay belly up.

"Good boy," Hope cooed as he knelt down and gave Alexander the bone, rubbing his tummy all the while.

"He's pretty well trained."

Slowing his attentions, Hope smiled. Alexander was his best friend. He thoroughly enjoyed playing with him and teaching him things here and there over the years. "We have a lot of time to train." Giving a light whistle, Hope stood, Alexander obediently following the set command. "You want to try?"

While the signals were fairly simple, the young woman didn't quite feel up to putting on the show. "Nah, I'll just toss it." Pausing to make sure the dog was paying attention, she then threw it up and over to the pup, watching as he snatched it right out of the air. "Good dog."

"Yeah, he is, isn't he?" Hope was caught off guard as Lightning was suddenly in his face, holding his chin. He could feel his heart hammering inside of his chest as Lightning appeared to be examining him. _Please stop. Please don't look. I'm sorry. Please._ The unexpected action had almost immediately shocked him out of the pleasant conversation and he couldn't hear the question of Lightning's over the blood rushing in his ears. It felt as though his throat was swelling shut and his lungs had shrunk to five times too small. Shutting his eyes, Hope counted backwards from ten, hoping to ward off a panic attack that was rising in his chest. His breaths were faint wisps until they stopped coming all together. Numbness, he needed to find his shell of numbness that he wore over himself like a trusted, worn-out coat. It was supposed to protect him from these moments.

Lightning let go, noticing his discomfort. She became alarmed as she realized Hope wasn't breathing. Alexander let out a whine towards his human. "Hope!" When he didn't respond, Lightning found herself gripping his shoulders tightly. The world around her contracted, everything else falling away. Everything around her shrank to the black splotches, the horribly chapped lips, the purple tinting his cheeks, as if the very space around her had been sucked out like the air from Hope's lungs. Nothing mattered but the boy who she had stumbled into the night before. "Breathe, Hope!"

The distressed teen opened his eyes as he heaved in large gulps of air. Doubling over, he could feel Lightning's hands on his back, the soothing circles doing nothing to assuage his irrational fear. She had gotten so close. He hadn't been prepared. It had been like… _all those times…_ His dad would be a room away and then he would be right there. Hope wouldn't even have time to blink and he'd be on the floor, nursing a new injury. "I'm sorry, Lightning. I mis-misunderstood. I'm… s-sorry. I don't know why… I'm l-like this." His voice was a mere croak as he choked on the air aiding him back to normal.

Shaking her head, Lightning stayed at his side until he could collect himself. "No, it's my fault. I should have known better." She knew that feeling. The feeling like you're suspended, just waiting for that next hit to come. Like you're just so terrified that you can't move. You can't even breathe. "I get it, kid."

He could see truth in the depths of her eyes and Hope felt sick. Empty sympathies and condolences were one thing, he could handle those, pitiful stares too, but when someone came to compare their own pain with his, it just made him feel small, like a spoiled child that was years from gaining empathy. Like he couldn't see past his own problems to see just how inconsequential they were compared to everyone else's. "I'm sorry," he choked out, grabbing a hold of Alexander like a lifeline. The dog licked at Hope's face and the silveret found an overwhelming amount of comfort as the drool slid down his cheek.

Deciding to reiterate her question once the kid's small attack was over, Lightning slowly let her hand fall to his shoulder, making sure Hope saw her every movement. She was careful and slow, but his eyes still watched her hand with an unnerving amount of trepidation. "Have you been icing these?" Her fingers grazed a particularly nasty bruise resting beneath his jaw with a gentleness the woman hadn't used but with her sister.

Hope gave a slow nod. A beeping on his watch had him jolting up and away from her touch. Alexander barked at Hope as he jumped up to his feet. "I, um, have to go, but…" Emerald irises wandered up and sheepishly met her stare before his gaze fell back to the ground. "Thanks…" For what, he wasn't so sure. She was the first person to seem to really give a crap about him since… well, everything. Even if she was just being neighborly, taking pity on the weak kid across the street, then he'd take it over nothing at all.

A nod was returned for his word of gratitude. Before he could turn away, she gently urged his chin back up, their eyes meeting again. "Remember, kid. Eyes up, focus forward. You aren't a doormat, got it?"

Disbelief, but mostly amazement flitted through his eyes before he walled himself back up and nodded vigorously. "Thank you, Lightning." He then turned, running back to his home and swiftly disappearing inside.

She knew her words wouldn't do much to help his battle with his father, but if he learned to hold his head up around others, maybe then his fights could at least remain confined to his home. He didn't need any other bullies in his life. He needed to dredge up his confidence from the dark depths his father had thrown it into.

Lightning heaved a sigh, already emotionally exhausted by recent events, and made to head inside when a sleek black car pulled up into Hope's driveway. An unnatural amount of hatred sprung up as she watched a man step out of the car. She didn't even know Hope's father and she already hated the man's guts. A parent didn't have a right to do something so scarring to their child. No right at all.

The high-pitched shrieks disturbed Lightning's thoughts as a vivid memory flashed in her mind's eye. Of nights huddled behind her dresser with her sister shaking in her arms. Nights where her mother would forget or refuse her medicine and things would spiral into a haze none of them would recover from.

The door slammed shut behind her and Lightning slid herself down into a squat. The bills in her hand were crumpled now, the severe creases digging into her skin. _What am I going to do, Serah?_

* * *

With nothing but the same slow, stale night ahead of her, Lightning continued to scrub. Everything was dusted and nearly immaculately polished, all of Serah's misplaced items put right back where they had been. The linoleum floors were swept and mopped, carpets vacuumed. Dishes were washed, dried, and put away. Laundry finished and neatly folded or hung. Her bed was made. Every photo had been straightened. And then straightened again with a leveler when one of the generations' old photos of some distant cousins just didn't seem to line up right.

Lightning had been about to call it a day when she noticed a spot of grease on the stove top. Two hours later had her scrubbing out the inside of the oven. Lightning's hands were sore and black from the work, her bangs sticking to her face as she fixated on a spot that was giving her a fight. The smell of the supposedly 'all natural' cleaner she'd used was getting to her, beginning to haze her vision and bring forth what felt like a nail being slowly driven into her brain. This wasn't what stopped her though. No, she was a soldier - former soldier, really – and she was going to eliminate every enemy in her path. Or so her stubbornness dictated.

It was the forceful knocks at her front door that had her giving pause. Lightning waited. If it was Snow, he'd eventually just let himself in, much to her chagrin. If it was anyone else, well she didn't really feel like hearing about how she could get the Bodhum paper for free on Sundays with a new subscription or how the Almighty Lord and Savior was waiting to welcome her into his arms, so there was no chance that she was getting up to answer the door to some morons who would only waste her time.

Unfortunately, and quite surprisingly, the knocks continued, quickly becoming more frequent and demanding. With a roll of the eyes, Lightning dropped her scrubber and heaved herself up, swiftly rinsing her hands before making her way to the persistent visitor refusing to acknowledge her purposeful silence. Peeking through the peep hole, the roseate was met with the blurred sight of skin. A hand, no doubt. _I swear if this is another one of your pranks, Snow, you're going to have a permanent indentation the size of my fist in your face._

Agitated beyond belief, she swung the door open, her eyes widening a fraction at the woman wearing a nearly feral grin on her doorstep. "Fang?!"

"Well, hey there, Sunshine. Been awhile."

Ridding herself of the stun, Lightning regarded the Pulsian with a look of heedful curiosity. It had most certainly been a while.

"Y'know, when I'd heard you'd up and left, I thought they'd all just been playin' me for a fool. Then I get transferred up here and my ol' buddy Light's gone an' deserted me." Fang's grin widened at Lightning's nonplussed expression. "Ya gonna invite me in?"

Lightning scrunched up her nose in displeasure, letting the woman through the door.

Fang strode in easily, eyes sweeping over the place in its immaculate shape. "Expectin' company or somethin'?"

It had been a very long time. The woman was basically an alien to her, as the rest of the world, hers included, had become uncomfortably foreign since her early retirement. Fang seemed to sense this, but before any unwanted questions could bubble up, Lightning finally spoke. "What are you doing here, Fang?"

"What? I can't visit my old galpal? It's been three years." There was a pang of disappointment and sadness to her tone that betrayed her smug smile.

"No. Not just on a whim."

"No need to get all suspicious. I told ya I got transferred. Once I got the lay of the land, I sought ya out. I gotta say, this place ain't that bad, you were right."

"Not bad for a floating nest of vipers, huh," inquired Lightning with a playful lilt to her voice.

Fang had the decency to look sheepish. "Yeah, well, 'scuse me for being skeptical. As I recall, you took to _hell_ jus' fine." She gave a wink and Lightning couldn't resist letting her guard slip.

"So you finally got that request approved. Congrats."

She gave a bow accompanied by a laugh. "Took some schmoozing, but I got the job done. Vanille was depressed 'bout leavin', bit frightful, but she was pretty excited too. She's been about like a lil' hummin'bird wantin' to see everythin'."

Lightning was grateful to hear that Vanille was still good, still as happy as the last day she had seen her. That was one spirit that didn't need to be broken.

"I'm sorry."

The apology caught her off guard and had Lightning's eyes shooting up to meet the brunette's. "Don't."

But Fang pressed on, as usual. "I heard what happened. Why didn't ya call?"

"Gee, Fang, I don't know," Lightning snapped. "Maybe I was too preoccupied with having a dead sister!" Like a gun shot, her words carried and echoed around them, marking their permanence. The world could have rotted off and died in her absence for all she cared. Once Serah had died, Lightning had cut off her ties to everyone.

Fang stayed silent, her eyes hinting at another apology that Lightning didn't want to hear. Stomping off towards the kitchen, Lightning ripped open the fridge door and swiped up one of Snow's beers. Fang entered the room as she snapped off the cap against the counter and took a swift swig.

The Pulsian laid a hip against the opposite counter, just watching her friend, observing her tensed movements, her tight expressions. It wasn't fair. Fate had made Serah Lightning's life. And then fate had taken that life, that purpose from her, and left her a self-destructing husk. It hurt to see the previously hardened soldier in such a state. Distantly, Fang could see herself in her shoes. If Vanille had ever been taken from her, she could see herself tearing up the world and then shriveling up in a corner when there was nothing else to destroy.

"Stop looking at me like that. I get that look enough from Snow, as it is." Her voice was gruff with emotion in a way that made Lightning cringe. But what could she do about it?

"Ah, so the ape's still around, eh? Guess I ought'a go say hi. He still hang with that merry band of idiots?"

Lightning sputtered out a laugh around her drink despite her previous anger. Fang had about as much respect for the NORA gang as Lightning did. They both saw them as a bunch of overgrown children playing war in a battlefield that was way out of their league.

"I swear, whoever supplies them with weapons has to be the dumbest buffoon in this world."

Lightning shook her head as she grabbed another beer and tossed it to Fang. "Duvann is his own brand of ignoramus, but he doesn't generally dole out arms to just anyone. He pretty much grew up in the same orphanage as Snow's pack, so they get special treatment." Lightning could remember the few times Duvann had been investigated for illegal arms trading, she had even been involved in one of the raids of his shop, but for as big of a half-wit as the man could be, he was smart about how he handled his business. "NORA has only redoubled their efforts since…" The words couldn't make it out of her throat, sitting like a rock in their solidarity. "Snow won't let up. He thinks he can fight off the injustice in the world, or some stupid shit like that."

Guffawing at that statement, Fang chugged down half of her drink before slamming it down on the counter and swiping her forearm across her lips. "He always did fancy himself as some high an' mighty hero."

Fang and Lightning talked for another hour that quickly made its way into two, their conversations involving everything but the elephant in the room. Serah's death wasn't a subject, but a lingering presence resting just outside of their bubble. Lightning pretended that her shell of denial was still functional and that she wasn't struggling under the weight of it. Fang pretended that she couldn't see the fragility of her friend's sanity written in the contours of her face and the depths of her azure irises.

"Anyway, I should be headin' home. Vanille said she'd lock me out if I was even a minute late gettin' back," spoke Fang with a chuckle, her tone about as breezy as possible, despite the heavy air instilled within the grim house. She hated the thought of leaving Lightning alone now that she knew the state she was in. But she supposed that she had been getting along on her own for over a year now. She also had Snow.

"I see Vanille's finally gained a handle on your obnoxiously wild ways."

Ignoring that comment, Fang opened the door and took a step out before looking back. "I hope ya know that I'll be invadin' your home again soon, probably with a boisterous imp in tow. Can't get rid of us so easily." Lightning only stared at the woman's cheeky grin with dull eyes. "See ya soon, Sunshine."

* * *

There was an inescapable doubt sitting within her mind, a doubt that loved to tell her how it really was when she was delusional enough to think that she could be all right. It laughed at her, on occasion, letting her know just how fucked up it thought she was. It reminded her that she wasn't as strong as she believed, that she never was. It told her that even in her moments of perfect clarity, there was a hazy abyss waiting to swallow her just as it had captured her mother.

Staring out her window, Lightning willed such thoughts to cease and promptly told her doubt to shove it. The house across the way was a good distraction, a quickly thought-encompassing obsession, because she really needed more of those to keep her away from her grief and her corrupt sense of self.

Hope was a broken kid, a teenager that Lightning could easily relate to because she understood what it was like to be so damaged by people and circumstance. She knew, though, that there was a great, gaping difference between the two of them. There was still a chance that he wouldn't end up like her. A wreck with no hope of salvation. The light still present within his eyes could attest to that, along with the sweet disposition and the trust in the world that he still held.

She fell asleep to those thoughts. If she dared to hope, she would hope that things would work out for the boy across the street. She resolved that if she ever heard anything violent enough, saw anything bad enough, she would call the proper authorities. Even pull some strings with some old associates, if it ever came to that. It was the least she could do. For now, it was still none of her business. She knew. Hope knew she knew, but he never asked for help. And she wasn't one to stick her nose where it didn't belong nor where it was unwanted.

Faintly, she wondered if she would see him again. If he would be a little brighter next time, or if his soul would continue to shrink until there was nothing left.

Little did she know that it would be another two weeks until she would see the boy again. This time, with a battered being cradled in his arms and a look that would shatter her previous opinions of the young Estheim.


	4. The Revulsion that Erodes Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated, as promised, Ina. Sorry it took me a week.

_It was amusing watching him pick them up._

_This giant, hulking man who she had always hated was doting on her hand and foot, even though she wanted him gone. She wanted him out of her house and out of her life. She never wanted to see his disgusting face, that sickening expression of sorrow and pity, ever again. But he insisted on staying. He stayed even as she yelled and shrieked at him. Even after she'd thrown everything and anything within reach at him. Even after she told him, once again, to screw off and to get the damn pills out of her fucking face. Even after she'd slapped them out of his hand, he had remained there. No matter what she did, he stayed._

_The tiny caplets, like all of the remnants of her sanity, laid scattered across the floor. Snow gave a sigh, his face falling into an even grimmer expression, before he knelt down and began picking each and every pill up off of the linoleum. Lightning watched, her annoyance turning into some twisted form of amusement._

_It was hilarious what he was doing to himself. Snow was putting himself through so much and Lightning wanted none of it. She had to ask herself why he even bothered. As he stayed stooped on the ground, Lightning couldn't keep her fit of chuckles from erupting until she was full on laughing. He was such a complete dumb-ass. Only a total moron would continue to put himself through this. He didn't have to be here. His dumb fantasies of being family meant nothing to her, he knew that. He knew how she felt about him. And yet, he stayed._

_Lightning's laughs quickly became sobs as she let her head thump forward onto the table. She kept hitting it against the wood, over and over. Maybe something would pop out if she hit it hard enough. Maybe the pain could just be smashed out of her skull._

_Her head was suddenly jerked up and her face was then held against Snow's broad chest. Arms were around her, holding her tightly to him. Little words of comfort were being whispered into the air, suffocating her with all of their love and good-intentions._

_It was like a bad joke._

* * *

"Get up!"

Hope hastily stood at the command, the room spinning as his head throbbed. He tried to focus his vision, he really did, but it was taking too long to clear.

Another slap was dealt to his face, relatively light considering the usual. "Face me like a man, Hope!" His father always hated it when he wouldn't look at him.

Wiping away the blood from his nose, Hope sniffed, his eyes finally meeting his father's. Hope couldn't recognize him anymore. To the untrained eye, the man looked the same, of course, for he had to keep up appearances with the outside world. But to Hope, he could only see the terrifying anger that was always deeply ingrained in his expression, the harmful intent straining his muscles, the uneven set to his jaw as he openly showed his disgust. Gone was the father that Hope had known. He had been lost, a victim to the tides of grief.

Another firm smack nearly had him on the floor. "Are you even listening to me?"

Hope shook it off, quickly reconnecting their gazes. "Yes."

"What was that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Better. Now, what's wrong with this picture, Hope?"

The man moved to the side of Hope's vision, gesturing to the room before him. The silveret was met with the sight of the living room, completely cleaned of the trash his father left behind that morning. Hope had already removed the empty bottles, disposed of all of the left over dishes and wrappers, and vacuumed and dusted every inch of the room, just as he was supposed to before his father arrived home from work every day. He failed to see what was wrong.

But there was definitely something wrong. There was always something that he missed.

An expectant expression awaited on his father's face and Hope withheld the urge to cringe. "I don't-"

The back of his neck was arrested as he was dragged over to the coffee table, his face then shoved to the floor. He grunted as his nose was practically ground into the carpet.

"What is this, then," Bartholomew shouted.

Hope couldn't see, his sight blurred by the floor so close to his eyes. He attempted to wriggle free, not in defiance, but just so he could see. His father relented, letting him go as he stood back, allowing him to recognize his mistake.

There, just inches from his face, was a large splotch of blood. His blood, to be more precise.

"What would have happened if I hadn't come home early? If I had arrived with my colleagues for them to see this stain on our carpet? What would they have thought?"

Hope couldn't speak out of fear of saying the wrong thing. A kick met his side, causing him to fall over into the coffee table and he cried out at the suddenness of the pain. He could hear Alexander barking now. The dog generally barked his complaints when Hope couldn't manage to keep his voice in.

"You know how important tonight's dinner is. I could regain my position if this goes well," Bartholomew gripped Hope's hair, pulling his head back as he forced him to look at him, "but not if there is a stain on my carpet. Not if I have a worthless wreck for a son!"

Hope's head was slammed back into the table. If the room had been spinning before, the whole world was whirling now. He hissed at the ache.

"Now clean this up. You have three hours to get this house up to my standards and to get yourself presentable." Bartholomew readjusted his glasses as he sneered down at his son. "As presentable as trash can be, I guess."

Hope nodded in response, regretting it as the action caused him to become dizzier.

"What was that?"

"Yes, sir."

The man then made to leave the room. "And shut that damn dog up before I shut him up for you!"

Hope flinched at the slam of the door. Staring down at the stain, he could see that it was already well set in and dry, even though it was less than a day old. He gave a sigh, hating himself for his oversight and stupidity. Heaving himself up, Hope grabbed his usual tools for dealing with such a mess; this wasn't the first time he'd had to get blood stains out.

Hope ignored his aching muscles and sores as he continued to scrub. Some stains were harder than others, this he knew from experience. While trying to rub the ammonia in this time, though, Hope had a hard time concentrating. His mind kept flashing back to what had caused the stain.

The previous night had been hard. His father's mood swings were even worse than usual. One moment he was crying and muttering apologies into Hope's neck, his face a blubbering mess, and the next he became furious, waving a fire poker around until it came down and whacked into Hope's hip.

Dropping the sponge, Hope's hand instinctively covered the abused area as if he were expecting to be hit there again. The pain came in waves and Hope had to actively suppress his growing fatigue. _C'mon, you need to pull yourself together. It's just a scratch. It'll go away soon._ It wasn't a simple scratch, he knew that, but telling himself it was dulled the pain into a manageable ache.

After finally relieving the carpet of the bloody splotch, Hope stood and stretched before putting his supplies away. He then went to check on Alexander. The music from one of his father's old records played throughout the halls, letting Hope know that the man was still in his bedroom and that he would be able to make it to his own room in peace.

Alexander greeted him eagerly, barking happily at the sight of his human. Hope knelt down with a small, strained smile. He laughed as Alexander whined and licked at the forming bruise on his forehead. "It's alright, buddy." A large sigh was given by Alexander, as if the dog didn't believe him. "Want some food, boy?" Hope stood and winced at the pain in his hip, his hand automatically covering it once again. _Maybe not just a scratch…_ Giving a tilt of the head, Alexander nudged away Hope's hand and nosed under his shirt, licking the bandage, as if he could heal the wound with some well-placed slobber.

Hope shook his head with a chuckle. "Really, it's alright. Here, let's get you some food." He then proceeded to fill Alexander's dish, watching as the pup ran to claim it. Hope really wished he could give his dog more space, but for now he kept all of Alexander's things safely confined to his room, out of the way of his father.

Sneaking out of the room while his dog munched on his meal, Hope snatched up his things and made to shower. This time he skipped his mirror ritual and hastily stepped into the spray. He would be staring at his reflection soon enough anyhow.

The water poured down on him and Hope relished the feeling. Even the burning and stinging of his cuts and bruises as the water pelted them couldn't dull his euphoric high. The water cleansed him, washing away some of the exhaustion from not only his body, but his mind and soul as well. It was a bone deep exhaustion that wouldn't relent, but the water soothed him. It mended his aches, his pains. Stole away his anxieties and fears, his guilt. It cocooned him in a bubble that promised safety, instead of hurt.

He stayed under the spray until the water ran cold and his skin turned pruney. He would regret this, he was sure, for he didn't have time for a leisurely shower. However, he chose not to dwell on that. He stepped out, grabbing a towel and swiftly wiping himself down, the downy fabric seeming to instantly swipe away his joy. Wrapping it around his waist, Hope then found his reflection, staring at it dully. He took in his marks, both old and fresh. He didn't waste time in worrying over the state of his body anymore. It was useless. Caring only made it all hurt worse.

He cleaned and disinfected the worst of his wounds, his new scrape on his hip included, before bandaging them up from sight. He dressed in his suit, withholding the coming tears as he remembered that the last time he had worn it had been at his mother's funeral. Then he began his task of hiding the remaining wounds that were still visible. He had only done this a few times, generally when his father had company or when his dad was too out of it to care if Hope had school the next day and would be seen.

Hope applied the concealer, dabbing it over the areas on his face and neck. He then used a translucent powder to cover over that and blended it in. He was by no means a professional, but after watching enough videos on the internet and having done it a few times since, he felt that he had done a pretty good job of shielding the abuse from any future prying eyes. The only thing that stuck out was his recently reopened split lip. He would just have to find an excuse for that.

Or his father would for him.

It didn't matter. He could hear the doorbell ringing and Hope sucked in a breath. It was time to act his part.

* * *

Lightning watched out her window with mild curiosity as people filed into the Estheim residence. All were dressed in gowns and suits, some were even Sanctum officials and politicians that Lightning recognized. A party, one could assume, most likely a work function of some sort.

Over her short time in knowing Hope and considering his family, Lightning had failed to really notice the Estheims' status in society. Sure, their house was much bigger, newer, and nicer than hers across the way, but Lightning had not known just how well off their family was. She didn't know what kind of business Hope's father worked in, but it was pretty obvious now that it was a high end job under the Sanctum.

This fueled a small bout of anger in the young woman. Hope's father was probably a highly regarded and well-respected man at his job. He lived a cozy life with his wealth and status as his cushion. And yet, he felt the need to beat his son.

Lightning wondered idly where Hope would be during the whole affair. Surely he couldn't just parade about in front of everyone carrying his father's acts of violence like a billboard. _He probably has him locked in a closet somewhere._

Now she really wanted to punch that man.

"Hey, Sis? What are you doing?"

"Ignoring you."

Snow gave a snort as she turned to look at him, the curtain closing behind her. She was glaring at him, but it was dull, worn of its usual fire. "Did you take your meds?"

"Of course I did, Snow. Etro knows why. I don't need them," Lightning grumbled, her restless hand dragging through her hair. "The Valium just makes me tired and the Zoloft wires me until I'm awake for hours. Both of them together just make me jittery and crazy."

"Maybe you should go back to the doctor and get a different prescription?" He took a moment to fully look at Lightning. Her azure eyes were puffy and slightly bloodshot, her skin was paler then he'd ever seen it, and her fingers even held a small twitch to them that they'd never had before. She really did look like hell. "This can't be good for you."

"And have him suck even more money out of me for nothing? Screw that. Next that quack will be sending me to the psych ward just for kicks."

It was evident that the pills were helping, for she wasn't balled up on her bed or ferociously volatile as she had been those first few months Snow had tried to keep her sane. Or maybe time was healing her better than any medication, but how was he to truly know? He just knew that he couldn't lose her. "Did you give the therapy idea any more thought?"

Lightning didn't dignify that with a response, sitting down on the couch with more purpose than necessary. There was something caught in the box fan by the kitchen, clicking obnoxiously in the background; Lightning found she preferred that sound to Snow's useless blabbing.

"You could always do group. I find it's a little easier. Hearing other people talk about their problems too, and all."

A slender brow rose as she gazed tentatively at him. "You go to group therapy?" It came out no snarkier than usual, but she still felt somewhat bad for the mockery present in her voice. She looked away.

Snow grinned, his arms folding behind his head, the picture of laid back with a splash of vulnerability tinging his features. "I figured I'd give grief counseling a try. I liked that it wasn't going to be completely about me, that's why I chose group." He managed to catch and hold her gaze, hoping to capture some interest with his sincerity. "It's good to connect with other people who are going through the same thing you are, you know?"

Lightning didn't want to talk about this anymore. Encyclopedias could have been written about all of the things Lightning would have rather talked about, but that small spark in Snow's eyes kept her from saying anything too venomous.

Why did she care? Hell if she knew. Maybe she really was just too tired.

"Serah used to go to therapy…" It wasn't something she liked to think about. Going to therapy was like admitting you were too messed up to fix yourself. Like you needed someone else to put you back together. You were too weak. She didn't like thinking of her sister that way. She didn't want to think of _herself_ that way. "She said it helped her deal with everything after our parents."

"Yeah, she mentioned something about that once, but she didn't really say anything past that. Or about your parents. She didn't like to dwell on the negative." Snow laughed. "She had you for that." Instead of chucking something at him, as he would have expected, Lightning gave him a small, dry chuckle. It threw him off, but he smiled anyway.

* * *

The dinner had started off well. It wasn't really a dinner, per say, but a celebration, as Hope had found out. A long-standing merger had ended better than expected thanks to some tremendously well thought out ideas on his father's part. This news almost made Hope feel better. Maybe his father would be in a better mood? Maybe things could go back to normal?

It wouldn't. He knew better than to dream up such notions. No matter how well his father's life was going, the pain was still present. The cause of the man's grief still lived under his roof.

Snatching a glass of champagne off of a tray as a waiter passed by, Hope gulped it down. His hands were shaking and he needed the trembling to cease, because his father was heading over to him with a look in his eyes that Hope really didn't like. One of his father's colleagues that the man had previously been talking to was staring directly at Hope, her eyes sweeping over his form appreciatively while she sipped from her drink. It was enough to let him know where this was going.

Even though he was nothing but garbage, waste had its uses, or so his father had said before.

"You've done surprisingly well this evening, Hope. One could almost mistake you for a gentleman. I'm shocked that you've managed to keep yourself from ruining my night," stated Bartholomew as he came to stand before him. "But I suppose the night is still young."

Hope merely smiled politely back at his father, ignoring the barbs of his words. "Happy to serve, sir."

Bartholomew nodded before clasping his hand behind Hope's neck and bringing their foreheads together. To outside eyes, it looked like a heart-warming family moment. A father giving his son a small show of affection while they had a relatively private conversation.

Except that it wasn't. Bartholomew's grip was firm, almost bruising, as his thumb applied the smallest amount of pressure over Hope's pulse point. It acted as a reminder that his life was held entirely within his father's hands.

"Now come along. Elesandra Debonair is one of our company's board members. I need her on my side. Her daughter was stood up tonight and is in need of some company, understand?"

Hope swallowed, but nodded mechanically. "Of course, sir."

Without another moment to spare, Hope followed behind Bartholomew to the woman he supposed was his father's target. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Debonair. You look lovely tonight." Hope gently took the woman's hand in his and kissed the top of it with a charming smile. It was a lie. Her black hair was so tightly pulled back that it looked painful. She had far too much makeup on, her red lipstick making her lips look huge and her dark eye shadow made her stare nearly penetrating. Her dress showed too much cleavage and her heels were so sharp that they looked murderous.

"Please, call me Elesandra," she spoke. She pursed her lips as she took him in again, continuing her earlier appraisal. "Your father has told me some very good things about you, Hope, and I know he's not a man to embellish. I'm surprised you've managed to keep your top position in your class after your mother's death. Of course, I've learned that loss can sharpen a person and evolve them into an even better being."

Hope took the tactless comment with a grain of salt. The woman wasn't stupid enough to allow for such a slip in etiquette nor was she completely uncaring towards her brazen words' possible effects. Elesandra was testing his ability to keep his composure.

"It's been trying, at times," Hope managed, tempering the throbbing in his skull and the churning in his stomach, "but I suppose that we all have to keep moving forward no matter what hurdles we cross." She seemed pleased with the answer.

"Well said. There is something bothering me, though." Elesandra stepped closer, nearly invading his space while still keeping a semi-proper amount of distance between them. "Whatever happened to your lip, dear?"

Bartholomew came into the conversation then, putting an arm around Hope's shoulders and adopting a smile full of fatherly pride. "Would you believe kids these days? Some degenerate punk at his school decided to insult my son, spouting some nonsense about how Hope cheated to get his place, and then swung at him."

"Talk about low class. I assume you taught that ingrate some manners," she inquired, looking to Hope.

"You should see the other guy," Bartholomew added, patting Hope on the back. "My boy's already well on his way to being a real man."

There was an insult there. Hope chose to ignore it.

"As evidenced by the young man before me. Which brings me to a question, Hope. Are you currently romantically engaged with anyone?"

Hope's stomach tightened even more. "Not at the moment, no."

"I'd like you to meet someone…"

* * *

Hope stared at his company within the confines of the guestroom. Her name was Katvien, Elesandra's pride and joy, as her mother had said. She must have taken after her father in the looks department, because her hair was golden, falling down in soft waves on her back, and her skin was darker, more olive rather than her mother's ghastly paleness. Her face had a minimal, healthy amount of makeup that accentuated her look of radiant innocence. An innocence that was very misleading, it seemed.

Katvien sat on the bed, the skirt of her dress bunching as she crossed her legs, and looked at Hope from beneath long lashes. "To tell you the truth, I already have a boyfriend. Mother would keel over if she saw him. She tried to set me up with one of the company head's sons for tonight," Katvien stopped abruptly to giggle before carrying on, "and that _so_ wasn't happening. What a dweeb, he was. I convinced him to be ill today so he wouldn't be able to make it."

"Convinced him how," Hope asked. It wasn't out of curiosity. He thought that maybe he could stall with some conversation. At least until his head stopped feeling like a screw was being driven into it. He was only supposed to keep her happy – entertained was the word that had been used. If he just kept her talking, he could keep things casual.

She smirked, twirling a strand of hair around her gloved finger. "We women have our ways." She stood and made her way over to him, her heels clicking with every step. "I should have known she would just set me up during the party." Katvien gave a dramatic sigh as she caught Hope's tie and leaned against him. "Oh, well. You're pretty cute. I'm sure you'll be fun to play with." She swooped in, swiftly connecting their lips as she pushed herself against him.

Hope tried to pull back, but the girl was stubborn, keeping her hand at the back of his head as she nearly viciously attacked his mouth. Eventually he managed to free himself with a firm tug back. "A-Are you sure about this? Surely your boyfriend wouldn't approve of this." Hope noted the sour look of disapproval quickly taking over her face and rushed to fight against it. "I can't imagine any man wanting to share you." Hope internally cringed at his own words. This was not like him. Not like him at all and he wanted to run away and hide in the confines of his room with Alexander, consequences be damned. He had to force himself to stare straight into her peridot eyes, his smooth smile still in place.

Katvien giggled and let go, leading Hope to breathe in a sigh of relief.

Until she began undressing herself.

"Not to worry, pet," she cooed as she slid her thin scarf off of her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground beside her newly discarded gloves. "What one doesn't know…" Her eyes glinted with mischief as she kicked off her heels and began undoing Hope's tie.

Failing to respond in his stun, Hope stood stiff as she managed to toss away his tie along with his suit jacket. Her arms were then around his neck and she pulled him back into a bruising kiss, her manicured nails digging into his scalp. Hope was led to the bed, stumbling backwards, until he was pushed down onto it and he struggled to process everything beneath the young woman.

Everything was hazy, the room becoming an incomprehensible reality awash with bright sparks and black spots. He struggled to hold onto consciousness and he knew something was very wrong with his head. Although his senses were dim, he could feel her straddling him, her nails scratching against him as the buttons were undone on his shirt. Hope squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what she would find.

"And what are these from? Quite the bad boy, aren't we?"

She began kissing and biting at his chest and Hope could feel the bile at the back of his throat. His head was pounding and it wouldn't stop. He knew he needed to continue – to just allow it all to happen and play along as he had before, but he couldn't brush the pain away.

He sat up, Katvien almost falling off of him as he attempted to push her away. She was persistent, though, and grabbed his face with a scoff, keeping herself in his lap. "Don't think you can-"

Hope tried to push her off. He tried to hold it in. But he wasn't strong enough. He never was.

He threw up on her pretty blue dress.

* * *

Although it was utterly ridiculous, Lightning felt a tinge of loneliness as Snow stepped out the door and locked it behind him, leaving only after a forced hug and a loud goodbye. She turned back to her quiet home, ignoring the itch to do something in order to keep her mind off of the emptiness quickly creeping up on her. She was too tired, her limbs fatigued by her medications and her pent up anxiety.

She turned instead, staring at the picture on the wall. Lightning was in it, young and smiling and careless, her hair in small braids and her hands in the air, waving at the camera. Serah was in it too, a tiny baby held within their father's arms as she tried to snatch his glasses off of his face. He was laughing and there was an obvious amount of love in his eyes as he stared at the woman behind the camera. Her mother had always loved taking pictures – in the beginning.

Her vision refocused and she could see her reflection, a phantom of her former self. Youth and smile had vanished, vanquished by the mortality of the ones she held dear.

Holding her arms tightly to herself, Lightning kept her front up. She didn't want to fall apart today, even if it was just her in her all-too-quiet house, she wanted to prove to herself that she could keep herself together. At least for the remainder of the day.

But then that voice snuck back into her head, the doubt that could never rest when she most needed it to. It asked why she was the one left behind. Why did she get to live when the rest of her family had to die?

_More like, why am I the one that has to endure this? Why do I have to watch everyone I love die?_ Her life wasn't a gift. It wasn't a blessing.

She had been told once – after her first battle on Pulsian soil, when the rest of her platoon either lay dying or dead – that she was a survivor. Lightning wondered if that had been another tell of her curse, just like the deaths of her parents. She was a survivor, all right. In the cruelest sense of the word. What did being a survivor get her besides a life full of solitude and regret?

She was left with nothing but a harsh reminder that she couldn't protect anyone.

Before she could get too wrapped up in the web of misery her doubt had spun around her, there was a string of frantic, aggressive knocks on her door. It was enough to shock her out of herself, enough to startle her into pulling her knife from her thigh. She waited and when it continued, the knocks evolving into full out pounding, Lightning cautiously made her way over to the door, peeking through the hole.

Her knife fell from her hands and smacked down onto the wood beneath her feet as she threw open the door. Hope had sunken to his knees on her step, the wear on his body worse than she'd ever seen, and that happy dog that she had met only a couple of weeks before was bloody and barely breathing in his arms.

Hope spoke through his tears, a whispered rasp of a word.

"Help…"


	5. The Apprehension that Drowns Us

_Hope rinsed the lipstick off of his cheek, sneered at the angry red marks and scratches across his chest. He brushed his teeth numbly, ignoring the foreign flowery scent that had attached itself to him during the events of the previous night. Spitting and rinsing, Hope snatched his mouthwash, bottle poised at his lips, before a sudden jolt in his stomach had him kneeling before the toilet, retching the experience away._

_He'd been used._

_His father had used him like a tool in order to make a good impression with his superior. It was degrading, humiliating. He felt disgusting in a way that couldn't be cleansed. Leaning against the bath tub, Hope rested on the floor, like a dirtied rag waiting to be washed and used again._

_There was shuffling in the next room followed by a light humming. His guest was awake. Hope curled up further, trying his best to ignore the little tune and his duty to see her out. His father would come for him, pissed that he hadn't acted like a proper gentleman, but he couldn't quite make himself care._

_When the bedroom door shut, and the next room fell silent, he dragged himself up and made his way out. The guest room was a mess, his clothes strewn about the carpet, sheets in a disarray, but he kept it all in his periphery, not wanting to acknowledge it yet. Instead he made his way to his own room, barely reacting to the chill of the new air in his current state._

_He collapsed onto his bed, folded himself into his covers and laid there. He knew he should shower, and Maker did he want to, but he couldn't summon up the energy. Scratching at his skin, Hope tried to cover up the marks with new ones but the bites and scratches wouldn't go away. Just like the scars and bruises, they would remain, fading only as they seeped down further into his skin, staining his very being._

_No matter what he tried to think about, the girl from the night before kept flashing in front of his eyes with what she had done. What_ they _had_ _done. It had been awkward, at first. His inexperience had been obvious. Their first few kisses were marred by clacking teeth and clumsy lips, his fingers fumbled horribly with her bra clasps, and his trembling only worsened as he couldn't settle his nerves. She laughed before taking control, guiding him through the movements._

_She had been nice, patient with him, but it still wasn't what he had wanted. At some point, he had just shut off all of his thoughts, all of his senses, and let the events take their course. It was the only way he could force himself through the action._

_Briefly, he had thought about denying her, apologizing and saying he couldn't do it. He had thought about running away, far away to where his father couldn't find him. And for one horrifying moment, he had thought about fighting back when the inevitable lashes would come next._

_But he could do none of those things. He deserved this, after all._

_And now, the night was over. He'd kept the girl happy, obeyed his father's wishes. He could chalk it up to a bad first time and put it behind him. Hope wouldn't ever have to think about it again._

_At least, he hoped so._

* * *

Breaking traffic laws all throughout Bodhum, Lightning didn't know how she managed to avoid any officers. She pulled into the lot and jumped out, running in with a speed she'd long ago thought she'd lost. She yelled at the receptionist, probably with more bite than necessary, urging that she needed help with her dog in the car.

Two men took Alexander from Hope, the young man very reluctant to let him go. Alexander was taken back by the doctor on staff and the two sat in one of the exam rooms, Hope trembling and Lightning simply staring at the poster on the far wall, a cat looking cross-eyed at the bandage across its nose.

She stayed near Hope, watched him from the corner of her eye as he shook and barely held himself together. The rush was over, but Lightning didn't feel like she could breathe quite yet. She still felt compelled to do something, to make herself useful. There wasn't anything else she could do for Alexander, no matter how much she wanted to. Hope, on the other hand…

She didn't know what to say, how to comfort. This was Serah's territory and she knew exactly what her sister would do. She would take Hope in her arms and not let go. She would whisper to him that it would be okay, the confidence within her words giving her the credibility of the Maker. But Lightning wasn't like that. She didn't have Serah's super powers of gentle nurturing.

A woman came in, tired circles beneath her eyes and her messy red hair pulled back, glasses smeared from a long day. Her ID said Allya, Vet Assistant. Her gaze burned into Hope's form with concern, eyes flitting from injury to injury. "I need you to fill out these forms." Her tone was clipped as the paperwork was thrust into Lightning's face. She merely blinked at it before Hope took the clipboard from her hand. "Has the dog been brought to us before?"

Clearing his throat, Hope tried to swiftly clean off his face with his sleeve, a mixture of tears, snot, blood, and cover-up smearing onto the fabric. He was quite literally a mess, but that didn't matter right now. "Yeah, when he was a puppy." His voice was course, words sluggish, heavy on his tongue. "I usually take him to the vet down the street, though."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Hope froze, fingers tightening around his clipboard, and Lightning felt that hatred build back up inside of her. She knew what happened. She knew exactly what had happened. The evidence was all over Hope's face, in the trauma in his eyes, in the way he couldn't even properly hold onto his pen with how bent his index finger was.

He licked his lips as he came back to himself. "We were attacked by some people on the street. I d-didn't-" Hope huffed out a breath, eyes staring at the paperwork in front of him. "I didn't see who they were."

Allya rose a brow, a sidelong glance given towards Lightning. "Are you sure, dear? If you need to talk about this in private, we can."

Lightning's brow furrowed as the woman rubbed his back and gave the roseate another disconcerted glance. She couldn't help it. She exploded. "You can't really think I did this to him, can you!?" In retrospect, that probably wasn't the best way to react to the situation.

The woman tightened her hold on Hope and noticed as he stiffened at the touch. "Please, calm down, ma'am. I'm just trying to figure out what happened. I don't want to call security, but I won't hesitate if there's a problem."

Lightning was ready to lunge at the woman for such an absurd assumption, but Hope's hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder before she could tear herself from her seat. His hold was gentle, but firm, oddly calm, given the situation.

"This is my neighbor. She was kind enough to give us a ride. Please treat her with respect. She brought us here and helped us even though she had no obligation to."

His words instantly soothed her and she sat back a little easier in her chair. The woman looked a little taken aback and Lightning fought the urge to smirk.

"How is Alexander? Is he-" The word sat lodged in his throat. His best friend had to be okay.

Allya quickly shook her head and gave a small smile. "He's already awake and responding well to the medication."

Hope felt the world begin to turn again. Alexander was alive. He was _awake_. Hope gasped out a laugh as the onslaught of tears only worsened. He shouldn't have doubted his best friend. Alexander was a fighter.

"Doctor Verret is taking x-rays and doing some tests. He's certain that he'll have to have surgery on his front leg and some stitches on the laceration above his eye, but other than that we'll have to see." Closing the folder, she frowned at Hope. The dog wasn't the only one that needed medical attention. "You should have a doctor look at some of your wounds."

"I'm fine. Please, just take care of Alexander. Whatever it takes." His injuries didn't matter, all that mattered was that Alexander was still hurting. He was hurting and it was all his fault.

"It will be a bit of a wait, but the doctor will brief you more soon."

Lightning watched the woman leave, hoping to never have to see her presumptuous face again, and turned back to Hope. "She's right, you know? You should have this checked…" Her fingertips gently trailed across the bruising on his neck and down to the swollen joints on his fingers. There was so much damage to his body that she didn't know where to start. His face wasn't as bad as the last time she'd seen it, but there was an odd tinge to the skin there. Brushing her thumb against his swollen lip, Lightning was stunned as her fingers came back with make-up. _So, that's how he hides those…_

Hope pulled away from her, eyes studying the linoleum. "Really, I'm fine. It doesn't matter, any-"

Lightning grasped his chin and yanked his face to look at her, expression livid. "Don't talk like that, Hope. Your life matters. You matter! I don't care what your father tells you. It's not true and he has no right to do this to you!" Her voice echoed and she was sure that their conversation had carried passed the doors, but she didn't care. Hope had to know that this wasn't okay. That he didn't deserve the abuse, just like she hadn't.

Hope calmed his erratic heartbeat that raced from the unexpected action, willing away the fear and letting her words sink in. He pulled his chin from her grasp and curled in on himself, rested his forehead on his knees. "You don't get it, Lightning. I-"

A soft knock sounded from the door followed slowly by Allya stepping in, a first aid kit in hand. "I really think you should get treated, maybe report whatever incident occurred," her gaze met Hope's, a knowing look in her eyes, "but I can help bandage some of that up, if you wish."

Hope shrunk back further, burying his face into his legs once more.

Knowing that he wouldn't want to be touched by foreign hands, Lightning stood and took the kit from her. "Thanks, but I'll help him from here."

The assistant hesitated and rose a skeptical brow. "Are you sure?"

"Please," came Hope's muffled response.

Still looking uncertain, she gave a slow nod and left. As the door shut behind her, Lightning took a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I should really take you to a hospital."

His head shot up. "No. It's not even that serious. You can't. Please-"

"The responsible adult thing to do would be to take you to the hospital. I mean, look at you. 'It's not even that serious,' my ass. He really did a number on you this time. What kind of person would that make me if I just ignored this?" Tears gathered under Hope's eyes that were desperately pleading with her to let it be. She pushed her hand through her hair and gave another sigh. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

"No one can know. It'll ruin him. He'll kill me if you do something like that!"

"That's precisely why I should!"

Hope shook his head and clutched tighter onto the fabric of his jeans. He began to rock, but stopped and hissed as the pain in his side became unbearable.

Lightning was instantly beside him. "What is it? Are you okay?" Hope only shook off her frantic questions and held his side, face contorted in agony. Lightning shoved his hand away and pushed her own up his shirt, cringing as it came back slick with blood. "Fuck, Hope. You're going to a hospital, now."

"You can't f-force me to go anyw-where," Hope mumbled, steeling himself against the bench.

Lightning glowered at him. "You want to bet." She grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him up against her, ignoring his pained shouts. If he wasn't going to take care of himself, she was going to. Enough was enough. Dragging him forward, it wasn't until her hand was at the door that he managed to stop her.

"Please, don't, Lightning," he cried into her shoulder, fingers digging into her arm.

She looked down at him, his form trembling in her hold, tears trailing down bruised cheeks, and suddenly felt like the monster his father was, hurting him and taking his choices away. Just like that, she lost her resolve. Hanging her head, Lightning eased him back onto the bench, far more careful in her actions than she'd been before. "Fine," she breathed, exasperated, "but I'm fixing you up, got it? Or I'm waiting until your ass passes out and driving you to the emergency room."

Hope nodded and sat back, gasping as his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his wound. He'd lost his bandage in the scuffle. He remembered the sting as it was ripped off of him as he was being dragged down the stairs. The rest was all a haze of screaming and blinding pain…

Lightning fussed with the kit, pulling out what she would need and dampening some gauze with peroxide. "Take off your shirt." Hope gaped at her and Lightning rolled her eyes. "I'm going to need access to your side. Don't make me take it off for you." She was getting impatient. That and she was starting to feel particularly wired, like a rope being stretched to its limit.

"It's okay, I can just-"

"Hope," she crouched down in front of him, waited until his jittery gaze met hers, "shirt or hospital."

There was such a sharp intensity to her azure orbs. It was like meeting the eyes of a lioness, a fierce, relentless stare delving deep into his soul. He swallowed before tugging on the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head and hissing as it brushed his side.

She quickly took in all of his injuries, his torso covered with everything ranging from jagged cuts, to small burns, to dark splotches of purple and nearly black bruises, to... _Are those hickeys?!_ Lightning didn't allow the disgust to show on her face, her expression impassive as she set her focus on the most concerning area. "This is going to hurt." He jolted at the first swipe of the gauze, grunted at the sting. Her fingers shook as she continued to clean the wound. It had been a long time since she had had to administer first aid. _And last time didn't go so well…_

When it was clean and much of the blood had been cleared off, she could see the injury for what it was. It was a pretty rough laceration in his side that led down to a hole about the size of a quarter at the top of his hipbone. It wasn't too deep, from what she could tell, but it would still need stitches. "What the hell did he use to make this?"

Hope bit his lip, didn't comment on the bitter anger to her tone. There was really no use in keeping anything from her now. "A f-firepoker."

She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. "Anything he can grab," she muttered, mostly to herself. She remembered taking the sharp edge of a picture frame to her back once. It had been the closest thing within her mother's reach.

There was a swift knock and the door opened before either of them could reply. The doctor, presumably Doctor Verret, didn't even glance up from the file in his hands. "Well, the good news is, none of his injuries are life threatening. It looks like he's going to need at least three surgeries. His front leg has a partial fracture at the elbow and his left hip bone was shattered. We can replace it, but there's a good chance that he'll end up with some severe arthritis in a few years. Just taking out the bone seems to be the best option. It will heal better that way and his chance of recovery will be higher. His paw-" Glancing up, the doctor stopped, staring wide-eyed at the two before him. "I don't know what's going on here, but-"

"Do what you need to do, doctor." Hope cut him off, sitting up and covering his injury with his bloody shirt. "It's my fault he's like this, so please, just make him better."

Closing his file, Verret frowned, looking from Lightning to Hope and back again. "This is an animal hospital. If this has to do with any criminal activity, I can't let-"

"His father did this to him." Lightning stood up and took the file from the doctor's hands, scanning its contents. "He needed help so he came to me. Please, just ignore this and help his dog."

"Child abuse is very serious. He should call the police. See a doctor. This is not something that should be dealt with in the back of a veterinary hospital."

"Do you want to force him through more tonight?" She paused, looking at Hope, ignored his hurt look of betrayal. "I won't let that man near him, I promise you that. Right now, all he needs is to be patched up. I was in the GC and am trained in first aid. I can help him. You just need to walk away and fix Alexander."

He shifted on his feet, eyed Hope as he wiped the sweat from his brow. There was no doubt that the boy had been beaten, severely. He should report it. It was his duty to report such incidents. Verret had had enough drug addicts and criminals come to their hospital looking for help to know that these kinds of things were best dealt with by the police and trained doctors, but he supposed he could overlook one abused teen. "Alexander is going to have to stay here for the next week, give or take a couple days. We'll need to see how he heals and if the surgeries take. I'll need a signature on this approving his treatment."

He handed the paper to Lightning and she looked upon it briefly before handing it to Hope. There were a few minutes of silence as he read the statement before signing it. It all looked okay, although how was he supposed to know what would be right for Alexander in his current condition? He felt so stupid and helpless. He just had to trust that the doctor knew what he was doing. Alexander was going to be fine. He had to be. "Please, he's all I have."

"We'll do our best. Allya will be back here with some more forms and a statement of the cost. I'll be giving you a call as soon as his first surgery is over."

Lightning gave Hope a glance, noticing his weariness, and spoke for him. "Alright."

Verret was just about to leave before he turned back briefly. "You're going to need some more supplies to deal with that. I'll have Allya bring them back." With that, he walked out.

* * *

"I can't believe you told him."

Hope's words were quiet in the seat beside hers as she drove back home. He hadn't spoken since Verret had left the room, not even as she had been stitching his side back together, so it came as a bit of a shock. "It would have only looked more suspicious if we'd have lied."

Hope scoffed before turning away, jaw clenched with unspoken words. He wasn't even all that surprised, so he didn't know why he was so pissed. It made sense, and it had worked out in the end. He just hadn't expected her to say it so bluntly. It made him feel weak, dependent, and he didn't want to be.

"Look, I won't say I'm sorry, because I'm not. I did what was necessary, Hope. How's your side?"

 _Hurts like hell._ "I'm fine."

"You lie a lot, you know that?"

Hope chuckled despite himself. "I wonder why."

They paused at a red light and Lightning felt the silence bearing down on her, gripping her tight with an apprehension she was slowly becoming accustomed to. They needed to talk about this. Even if they didn't want to. "I won't report him and I won't call the police, but you have to trust me, okay?" She wasn't quite sure why she was saying this. She didn't need to take on the kid's problems. She could hardly take care of herself let alone someone else. But she could no longer just sit by and let him get the crap kicked out of him. He needed someone he could count on, someone who could protect him. Even if she wasn't the best candidate, she was what he had.

Hope fidgeted and glanced down at his fingers as he tried to focus on anything but the raging headache clenching his brain. "Yeah… Yeah, alright."

"Okay." The light turned green and they were moving again. She licked her lips, eyes firmly on the road, and asked the question that had been drifting in her mind since she'd seen his body. "Those bite marks on your neck and chest… are they…?"

Hope's brow furrowed in confusion before a wave of self-consciousness came over him. He hadn't even considered those marks when she had been staring at his bare upper half. It hadn't even registered in his mind at all. He didn't know they were even still visible with all of the bruising. "They're not from him."

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Really? I didn't think you wanted anyone to see you, let alone touch you."

"I don't."

He didn't comment further, but she needed to know. What exactly had he been through that she couldn't see? "Your mom…?"

"She would never do this to me," Hope yelled, enraged at the very suggestion. When Lightning didn't reply, he sat back, muscles tense with a pang of agony that had nothing to do with his current injuries. "When dad has his gatherings…" The words caught on his tongue and he felt like puking again. "Sometimes his colleagues have daughters that need company. I'm supposed to keep them happy. Satisfy the daughters and, well, dad gets some brownie points with their parents."

Lightning hit the brakes, grateful that it was three in the morning and that no one was behind them. She didn't care that they were in the middle of the road, she just couldn't focus on anything but what he had just said. "Hope, that's-" She couldn't even say it. _He's selling out his own son for his job?!_

"I know…" His voice was rough, as if he'd been swallowing gravel for the last hour. It felt like it. "You need to keep driving, Lightning."

Focusing back on the road, she put herself on auto-pilot, silencing any further questions until a more appropriate time. It was another few blocks before she found her voice again. "Light."

"What?"

"Call me Light."

* * *

It had taken her a full ten minutes and a screaming match to get him to agree to sleep at her place. She couldn't believe he thought she would just let him go home. She couldn't believe he would even _want_ to go home. He was used to it, she supposed. His beatings, as new as they were to her, were nothing new to him. He was used to getting knocked around and then going back to life like it was normal. Because it was.

She had yet to tell him that she wasn't letting him go home anytime soon. Of course, she wasn't sure what that really meant. How long was she going to keep him in her house? How was she supposed to take care of him? Especially with her less than stellar finances? And she was pretty sure that his father would come looking for him at some point. At least maybe his mother.

If she wasn't a victim, too.

Lightning groaned and shoved her face into her pillow. Maybe if she just smothered herself for long enough she would finally be able to pass out. It was five-thirty in the morning and she couldn't fall asleep. Even her sleeping pills weren't doing the trick.

Through the quiet night air there was a loud, heart-wrenching sob that came from downstairs. It had Lightning's head jolting up, though she knew who it was. Hope had been balling his eyes out off and on since they made it back, the guilt and fear over Alexander's condition finally hitting him. He wouldn't stop apologizing, even though the dog wasn't there to hear any of it. Over and over Hope would whisper how sorry he was, that it was all his fault. Lightning had retired to her room after the first few minutes, knowing that there was nothing she could do to soothe him.

She punched her pillow, clenching her balled up fist and wishing that it was Hope's father's face. His father had abused Hope, beaten his deeply cherished pet, and Hope was blaming _himself_. She hated it. It _hurt_ to hear him say such things, to hear him cry his heart out, and she didn't know why.

Dragging herself from the bed, Lightning made her way out of her bedroom and walked downstairs, listening as Hope attempted to stifle his sobs into one of her couch pillows. She left the light off, the moonlight streaming through the blinds more than enough to guide her to the chair across from Hope, and waited until he calmed himself down. She had to do something. What else was she good for?

Alexander's whines filled his ears, the scene of his father over his dog while he hit and kicked him relentlessly was the only thought on his mind. Alexander had felt so broken in his arms that he didn't know how he had survived. He'd read the papers, gone over everything the doctor had said and diagnosed. All he wanted was to curl up with Alexander in his arms, protect his dog like Alexander had protected him. He was such an idiot. Such a complete moron. All he had to do was follow his dad's orders. Please Katvien and then go on with his night. Alexander would have been safe. He wouldn't be having fucking surgery and spending _days_ in the hospital.

He sniffed as he began to settle, his anger taming most of his grief. He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve, blinking his tears away and finding Lightning in the corner of his vision. He had no pride or shame left to be embarrassed about his state. "I thought you went to bed."

"I did."

Hope winced, had an apology at the tip of his tongue before she stopped him with a hand held before her.

"It has nothing to do with you. Sleeping hasn't come easily for a long time."

He didn't fully believe her, but he didn't feel the need to argue. There was a lull in conversation that followed, and Hope found her silence comforting. She sat there, giving him her presence and Hope decided that he needed to talk. There was so much sitting inside of him, so much just bubbling under his skin and he realized that he had been holding it all back for months. Alexander had been his only sounding board, his only rock in his chaotic storm of a life. He needed something to ground him. And Lightning had let him know that she was there. He could trust her. Right? "I tried to stop him." He hiccuped in a breath, bit off his pained gasp.

"It looks like you did."

"I didn't know if he was even alive. It was the only thing that kept me conscious after that. Every time I was ready to black out, I thought about Alexander, laying there, waiting for me to help him."

"Why did he hurt him? That isn't normal, right?"

"No," Hope replied, sitting up some as he held the pillow tighter. "Alexander got out. I don't know how. I always keep him in my room. _Always_." Hope pushed a hand through his hair, pulled on it in frustration. "He had his hands on my neck and I couldn't breathe. The room was already spinning from when he h-hit my head on the coffee table and I was just praying to black out again… Dad never really stops until I'm unconscious." Hope started coughing, nearly hacking up a lung until Lightning was suddenly beside him, handing him a glass of water. He drank the whole glass, cringing as it felt harsh in his throat. "I was ready to pass out when Alexander came out of nowhere. He lunged at dad and bit him in the leg and didn't let go until he was off me."

Lightning brought him under her arm as he started to cry once more, held him close until he could speak again. Even though the action was weird and foreign to her, she finally decided to just follow Serah's example. Go through the movements, however awkward it felt.

So Alexander had protected him. She had figured it was something like that. She had only met Alexander once and it was obvious how protective he was over Hope. The dog could only stand to see him get hurt so much.

"Boy put up a good fight before… I tried to stop him... I yelled, tried to get up. By the time I managed to hit dad with the lamp, Alexander was…"

"You hit your father with a lamp?"

Hope's eyes widened, thinking about how hard he had smashed it against his skull. "I had to! He-"

Lightning shook her head, her lips turning up into a small smirk. "You don't have to defend what you did, Hope. I'm impressed. You stuck up for Alexander." She stopped, considered her words. "You should stick up for yourself, too."

"I'm sorry I got you involved. I just didn't know what to do and I had to help him."

"Don't worry about it. It was a good thing you came here." Hope put his hand to his head with a grimace and Lightning finally thought about Hope's previous words. "He hit your head against a coffee table?"

Hope nodded sheepishly, his eyelids flickering. "Yeah?"

"You have a headache? Dizzy spells? Any vomiting or nausea?"

"All counts."

Lightning left his side, returned with more aspirin to go along with the couple she'd given him hours before. "You have a concussion. You should have said something sooner."

"Sorry." He felt stupid for not considering the idea. It matched his symptoms perfectly. It was no doubt the main reason he'd thrown up on Katvien. Maker, he was so stupid.

"Alexander's going to be all right. We got him help in time. You should be proud of yourself. He's alive because of you." Hope gave her a skeptical look, swallowed down the pills dry. She stood and made her way to the kitchen, her movements lethargic after the long, exhausting night. "You should get some sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours to make sure you're okay."

"Lightning, I-"

"I told you to call me Light, didn't I?"

Hope gave a watery smile as he toyed with the makeshift splint on his finger. "Yeah. Sorry, Light. You're already doing so much for me."

"Don't waste your words on unnecessary apologies, Hope."

He didn't deserve her kindness, but it looked like he was getting it. Whether he wanted it, or not. "Thank you."

Lightning made a pot of coffee, sucked down two cups and was wide awake with Phoenix's renewed light by the time Hope had dozed off. She looked back over the young man and considered all of his injuries, the fact that his concussion and the laceration on his hip were going to need some serious observation for a while, and flipped open her cell. It rang for a handful of seconds before a groggy voice answered over the line. Hope was going to be upset, but she needed someone.

"Snow, I'm probably going to regret asking this, but can you come over? I need help."


	6. The Connection that Drives Us

_Lightning sat crouched in the corner, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. She didn't know why she was. She didn't even know where she was. Her hands grew jittery as she picked at the skin around her nails. For some reason it itched. It itched so badly that she just had to keep scraping, even as her skin began to flake onto the floor, even as her fingertips became too numb to possibly feel anything._

_She jolted as hands suddenly covered hers. Snow's face then came into her vision as he pulled her up, gently guiding her over to the kitchen sink. He placed her hands under the cool, rushing liquid. The water should have stung, but it didn't and she could see the worry bunching up his brows at her lack of reaction. She didn't have it in her to yell at him to leave her alone, that this wasn't his job. Any scathing remarks and bitter anger had abandoned her too, it seemed._

_He didn't speak while he bandaged her fingertips. He was solemnly quiet even as she knew that he wanted to comment on her condition. It was unnerving, his stare. There was no judgement in it, but she felt it all the same._

_Or maybe that was her own._

_A million questions rattled around in her mind as she stared at the tea he had placed in front of her. Why wasn't he too broken to function like she was? Why did he care so much about what happened to his not-quite-sister-in-law? Why didn't he hate her like she did? Why didn't he blame her like he should? "Why are you still here?"_

_He stopped and turned to her at her sudden question. "What?" But he'd heard her, the shock in his eyes said so. He looked dumbfounded, like even he couldn't find an answer._

" _Why are you still here?" she asked again, more strength behind her words as a rising anger came to her. "Don't you care? Doesn't it hurt to take care of your fiancé's murderer?! She was going to be your wife, for maker's sake. Yet you're still here treating me like a wounded bird? Why don't you hate me?! Why don't you-"_

" _Stop it, Lightning!" He slammed his fist down on the counter and it shut her up as she looked into his blazing blue eyes. "You think I don't think about it? You think I don't have the image of her limp body in your blood stained arms burned into my retinas?!" He scoffed and stepped back, his rage barely contained as his hands shook. "It's not your fault," he whispered quietly, his voice wavering as he continued. "It wasn't your fault… It was never your fault…"_

_She could only wonder who he was trying to convince._

* * *

"You aren't going to report it?! Lightning, he was beaten within an inch of his life! How could you not do something about it?"

"I _am_ doing something," Lightning snarled before heaving a worn out sigh. "I just… How am I supposed to protect him and betray him at the same time? He doesn't want anyone to know."

Snow glanced in her direction, taking in the exhaustion and worry that emanated from her being. He was used to seeing her this way, but it was only ever over Serah. No one else had inspired this level of fretting or frustration within the elder sister, at least not as long as he'd known her. He found it curious. From what he'd heard, this Hope kid didn't seem like anything particularly special, but he supposed that even Lightning had a soft spot for the battered and needy. "That doesn't mean that someone shouldn't step in on his behalf. He's just a kid. He doesn't really know what he's facing or what could happen to him."

"After this last time, I think it would be hard for him to not know."

"If he's not going to-"

"You just don't get it!" She stood abruptly from her spot at the kitchen table, her chair scraping loudly against the floor as she stared hard at the man across from her. "This kind of thing. There's a fear that comes with it… that nothing you do will ever help. That if you try you'll only make it worse... And then there's the shame, the guilt, because it has to be your fault…" The tears pricked at her eyes, stumbling over themselves to overflow. "You had to have done something to make them hate you like that. They gave you life, nourished you, cared for you, _loved_ you… you had to have done something to make that change… It has to be your fault that they look at you like that. To make them hit you like that…"

Snow said nothing, just stood there and watched, wishing he had the words to give. But that wasn't his talent. That was reserved for his better half.

"You just don't get it at all," she finished, even more unspooled than when she began. She stood in silence for a few moments before shaking it off. She didn't have time for those ghosts. She had a tormented teenager in her living room that needed her time and attention. Wiping at her eyes, she made her way over to the sink to wash the wetness and anger from her cheeks.

"I may not get it, as you say, but you do…"

Lightning froze, hands cupped beneath the faucet as the water cascaded through her fingertips. For a moment, she could have sworn it turned red.

"You know exactly what this is like. You know what it's like to want someone to help you. To need someone to save you-"

"I never…"

"Serah never told me anything… about your mom's illness, about the abuse…"

"That was different."

"How so?"

"It just was!" She shut the faucet off with a slam of her hand, spinning around to face him. His sympathetic expression had her instantly swallowing back the biting words she had at the ready. After a quick breath, she spoke. "Mom didn't know what she was doing. She was sick." Running a hand under her nose, Lightning steadied her voice. "His father willingly abuses him. I don't think either of us understands his situation. Not really."

Snow blew the bangs from his eyes, the noise effectively drawing her attention. "What do you want me to do, Lightning? Do you want me to tell you to call the police? That that's the best, easiest option you've got here?" He held up a hand before she could bark at him. "Or do you want me to say this is the best choice because it's what Hope wants? That patching up and sheltering him and his dog is the right part to play here? Because I'm here for you, Lightning. I'll say what you want me to say and I'll be what you need me to be. Just tell me what you want to do."

Hearing it like that, having the choice so nicely spread out before her, made it much easier for her to decide. She met his eyes and saw a little more of the man her sister had loved. "No calling anyone. If he wants that kind of help, we'll wait until he says it."

Snow nodded before cringing as a thought came to him. "Alright, but, uh… should someone go check on his dad?"

"What?! Why would we go check on him after what he did?!"

"He took a lamp to the head, right? The guy was unconscious when Hope left. Shouldn't someone make sure he's not, you know, dead?"

Lightning's feral expression relaxed as dread settled into her stomach. "I… really hadn't thought of that." She didn't want to. If she had to help that man after what he had done, she wouldn't be able to look at herself afterwards. Let alone Hope.

"He's fine." The two jumped as Hope spoke from the entryway to the kitchen. The silveret entered the room slowly, watching the new guest in the house with wary eyes. Sitting at the kitchen table, he clasped his hands tightly before him, squeezing them together harder every time he felt the need to run arise. It was irritatingly frequent. "His car isn't in the driveway anymore."

Noticeably startled, Lightning cleared her throat. "Right. Your mom's there to help him out anyway, right?" Hope tensed up at her question, all of his muscles seizing up at once as he sat stock-still. She rose a brow and sent a questioning glance Snow's way only to find the large man frowning at the floor, features pensive.

"Yeah, I'm sure she would have."

His voice was tight, constrained with words he obviously wasn't ready to speak quite yet, so she moved on. She wanted to ask how much he had heard, if her little emotional outburst had reached his ears, but her concern for his condition outweighed her bruised pride. "How are you feeling?"

Clenching his hands for the fifth time already, Hope peaked up through his bangs over at Snow before looking back over at Lightning. "Better, I think. My headache's gone, for the most part."

She gave a small smile before catching him glancing anxiously towards Snow once more. She mentally slapped herself for not noticing how petrified he was of the other. "Oh, this is Snow. He's… He was…" she stumbled over what to say, unsure of how to reveal their connection without saying the unspeakable. She hadn't had to introduce the man since the incident. She had stupidly thought that she wouldn't ever have to.

Snow stepped in before things could get any worse. He gave a broad grin, crossing the room as he jutted a gloved hand out toward the teen. "Snow Villiers. I guess you could call me Lightning's brother."

Lightning bit her cheek, withholding the usual 'You wish' comment back.

Hope eyed the hand for a full minute before he grasped it with his own. "Hope Estheim." They shook hands, Snow's grip much weaker and gentler than he would have imagined. "I suppose you already know what's going on?"

Snow's grin fell as his hand came back to his side, but he was quick to recover. "Well, I know a little bit about it, not too much. I'm just here to help, that's all."

"How long have you been up?" Lightning asked, trying to move away from the subject before Hope could send her that same look of betrayal he had back at the veterinary hospital. Once had been enough for her.

"Not long. A call from the doctor woke me up. Alexander made it through his first surgery. So far so good."

She let out a sigh of relief, but before she could speak, Snow beat her to it.

"Hey, is your throat okay? You sound a little-

" _Snow_ ," Lightning hissed, sending him a frigid glare.

"What? I didn't-"

Hope gave a small, raspy laugh and shook his head. "She's just worried you're going to bring up memories from last night. But it's okay. I'm fine."

The empty look in his eyes said differently. "No, you're not." She quickly got him a glass of water and set it before him. "We need to talk about some things, Hope."

Green eyes stared down into the water in his glass. If the pain of his wounds and the tone of her voice weren't enough to remind him of his predicament, his reflection sure was. "We?" Hope inquired, looking back over at the older man.

"I'm only here to help," he repeated, raising his hands to show that he had no other motives. "I can leave if you want."

Hope gave it some thought as he drank the water and set the glass back down. It hurt his throat more than it helped it, but at least his reflection wasn't there to mock him anymore. "No, it's fine. What is it, Light?"

She braced herself as she sat down beside him. She waved to the chair in front of them to silently urge Snow to sit, too. "Before we go any further with things, I need to know exactly what we're dealing with here."

Hope hesitated, his hands clenching his jeans this time, but as he met her gaze, open and completely unreserved to him, he found it a little easier to be open as well. "A-Alright."

She nodded, more to herself rather than anyone else. If she thought their conversation the night before had been hard, she didn't know what made her think she was ready for this one. "How long has this been going on?"

"Nearly two years…" The surprise on her face was expected. Some days, he found himself questioning how he was still alive after so long. _But that's not something I really want to think about right now._

"And the forced…" she swallowed back her distaste for her own words, but carried on, " _interactions_ with his coworkers' kids? Last night wasn't the first time, was it?"

"No, it wasn't the first time." He couldn't meet her eyes anymore and instead focused back on the ground. He could feel the shame reemerging from the depths he'd shoved it into the night before and he wanted desperately to wrap his arms around his dog. He settled for clasping his hands around his arms, holding himself together. He didn't want to talk about it, but he owed it to Lightning. She'd done so much for him already, the least he could do was be honest. "Originally I was just supposed to keep them company. We would talk and chat, whatever I was told to do. I even went out and played basketball with his department manager's son before because I was instructed to."

"It wasn't until a few months ago that one of the daughter's I was talking to came onto me. I let her down gently and left the room quickly, but dad caught me leaving. He said that I had to be a man and show her a good time." Hope stopped, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried not to let himself get too worked up. _It's in the past._ He just had to keep telling himself that. "I tried to tell him that I didn't want to, but he just said… he said 'What's the problem? You get to lay a pretty girl and tell all your buddies about it.' I couldn't believe-" he licked his lips with a sigh. "So I went back in."

Lightning watched his emotions war over his face, all the while trying to keep her own bottled up within. She knew that the intimate details of his abuse weren't really any of her business, nor was he obligated to share them. Her curiosity kept her from stopping him.

"The first time I really didn't know what to do, what was going on. She had to guide me through it all and I just-" He shrugged a shoulder with an empty laugh. "And then it was over, so I didn't let myself think about it at all, you know?"

Hope looked back up into Lightning's eyes, like he was looking for some kind of assurance. Something to say that he wasn't being judged for what he'd done. She put a hand carefully over the one in his lap and gave a nod to urge him on. Snow was being uncharacteristically quiet, but she didn't pay his presence much thought.

"And then he asked me to accompany another girl and… I prayed that nothing would happen again. And it didn't. She was sweet, came from a very controlling family, so she was just happy to have some peace and an ear that would listen… And then last night, I…" He drew in a breath, becoming more distraught as he thought about it. He tried to keep it behind him, but he was too weak for this. He was always too weak. "I thought that I could just stick up for myself this time. I could just make it stop, find a way to get her to stop, but… I couldn't focus and she was suddenly on top of me and-and I was just gonna let her… _do_ whatever and get it over with but… everything hurt and I couldn't get my head to stop and then I just-"

Lightning squeezed his hand again, repulsed by the fact that he'd been victimized by more than one person the night before. There was no way that girl hadn't known that he wasn't entirely willing, nor in the best shape to consent. Lightning felt her own shame climb up her tongue like vomit, because she'd done nothing to prevent it.

"I puked on her. _All over her_. I heard her scream and I think I passed out. When I woke up, I heard my father yelling. I knew he was coming after me, but…" Hope couldn't continue and instead put his head in the palm of his free hand, trying to keep his emotions behind his eyelids. He squeezed Lightning's hand again, finding it ten times more comforting than his own. He hated that he hadn't been strong enough to just get it over with. He had a strong suspicion that it was due to more than just his concussion. In the end, he just hadn't been able to stomach it again.

"You know this isn't your fault, right?" Hope didn't acknowledge her, so she pulled his face from his hand and gently turned it to face her. There was no fear in his eyes this time, no sign of a coming panic attack, just an expression full of sorrow and guilt. "What happened isn't your fault. You should have never been told to do any of that. And what happened afterwards, with you and Alexander, that wasn't your fault, either."

Hope shook his head, pulling away. "I should have just done it. What was the harm, anyway? Like dad said, it was just sex-"

"It was never about sex, Hope." Lightning took his face back into her hands and waited until he met her gaze. "This was about your father finding another way to control you and get ahead in his career all in one move. This wasn't some random hookup you decided to engage in. You were forced into this against your will at the threat of bodily harm. All of this wasn't your fault. You understand me?"

"But it was my _choice_ ," the tears came as he attempted to turn away from her again, but she wouldn't let him. "I should have just…"

"You were going to. Like the dutiful son, you would have, had you not thrown up." A part of her broke as she realized the extent of her words. Hope was willing to do just about anything for his father. She didn't want to know what else the man would put him through should he go back home. It would only continue to escalate, and she couldn't imagine what that kind of torture would entail. "It wasn't a choice. Your father might as well have put a gun to your head until you slept with her. If this," she briefly looked at his wounds, indicating what she meant, "was what saying no earned you, then this was never a choice."

Snow watched as Hope finally gave in, nodding as he gave Lightning a hug that nearly offset her from her perch on her chair. She floundered for a few moments, not knowing what to do, before slowly putting her arms around him and, in Snow's opinion, officially letting him in. Suddenly feeling like he was intruding on something private, he quietly stood and made his way out of the room.

* * *

"So what now?"

Lightning tended to Hope's injuries as she mulled over his question. She didn't really know the answer in the long run, she just knew that she'd be having a new house guest for a while. "You're staying here."

After their little battle the previous night, Hope had already pretty much assumed that she was going to say that. "Dad will be looking for me."

_I won't let him take you._ Even if the man didn't know about Hope's connections to her, or where to look for him, there was still a large chance that he would come sniffing around her place, or keep an eye out around the neighborhood. Keeping Hope from being seen was going to be a challenge. And just the thought of having to look or speak to that man made her want to throw something. She focused on rewrapping the elastic bandages around his torso, pushing all of her energy into her task, but even just glimpsing Hope's injuries again caused her anger to spike.

Every cut and scrape, every bruise and bloody wound caused her venomous rage to turn inward. _What am I doing? What makes me think I can protect him? I couldn't even protect Serah._ She couldn't stop the images that thought brought forth. Of the multiple doctor's visits and medications that did no good. Of the ailments that kept claiming her sister's body no matter what she did. Of how even Lightning's own cells hadn't been enough to save her. _No matter what I did, Serah still died. What makes me think the same thing won't happen here?_

She could see it play out in the back of her mind. Hope's father would come for him, and somehow Hope would slip through her fingers. In the man's rage, he would kill his son before his dirty little secret could get out. No matter how she tried to help, how much protection she offered, Hope would die. _Another promise broken and another grave to visit._

Hope flinched as Lightning's attentions became rougher, far more aggressive as the time passed. He looked down at her crouched position before him, noticing just how strained her expression was. He didn't know where her mind had wandered off to, but he knew it couldn't have been good. The fact that his bandages were tight enough to nearly restrict his airflow was enough of a clue. "Ow, that kinda hurts, Light."

His pained statement had her hands immediately stopping as her mind reentered the room. She gave a light curse before quickly untying and fixing her mistake. It hadn't even been a full day yet, and she was already messing up. "Sorry, I was…" She gave a huff as her hands fell from their work.

Hope shifted from his spot on the toilet seat and grasped one of her hands, giving her the same support she had offered him before. He knew that look in her eyes, the all too familiar guilt that was always so willing to spill forth.

She looked up, stunned at the gesture, before she finally let herself commit. "I will protect you," she declared.

Hope couldn't help but smile, knowing that she meant it, even if he wasn't so sure himself. He couldn't hide behind his neighbor forever. And what would happen if his dad did find out where he was staying? What would happen to him? _What would happen to Lightning?_ He told himself he would never let it come to that. If anything happened again, and he knew something would, he wouldn't let anything happen to the one person that was there for him. "What about Alexander?"

"Of course he can stay here. I have no idea how to take care of a dog, so," Lightning gave a lighthearted chuckle, "you'll have to teach me."

"How can you not know how to interact with dogs? It's simple," came Snow's booming voice as he peeked in from the hallway. "Although, I suppose you would have to know how to interact with people before getting to know their best friends."

"Bite me."

Snow laughed. "This is going to be fun. Looks like I'll be stopping in more often."

"We don't need your protection, Snow." Even if the man was ginormous, it was pretty common knowledge to anyone who knew them that Lightning could take him down in any condition. She actually found it kind of insulting that he thought she would need his help in this department. But she also knew that it was pretty pointless to get offended by his heroic nature.

"You may not need it, but you're getting it anyway."

Lightning snorted, but refrained from making a retort as a look of sudden realization crossed Hope's face. "What is it?"

"I start school tomorrow…"

"You've gotta be kidding me," Lightning groaned.

"What am I supposed to do?" asked Hope as his face paled. "I can't not go to school. Dad will be notified. The superintendent of the district will be notified if I c-continue to not-not go and dad will get f-fined." Hope began to stammer, getting more and more worried. "I-I could get kicked out after all the trouble m-mom went through to get m-me in. But if I go, he'll know where I am!"

"Hope," Lightning tried, but went ignored.

"Oh Etro, and w-what-what about my face? I-I don't think- I don't think I can cover all of this up this time. A-And my stuff! What about my-"

"Hope." She grabbed onto his shoulder this time, easing him into a calm. "You'll go to school." _He will?_ His points were all valid, but like he said, he couldn't miss school without even more people getting involved. And there was no way she was letting his father take his education from him too. "Your father won't try anything as long as you're in school. Where do you go?"

The sixteen-year-old took a breath and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Trinity Academy."

"The private school? Doesn't it cost like forty thousand gil a year to send a kid there?" Snow's eyes widened as Hope nodded. "Holy-"

"That's not the point, Snow." She gave him a glare which had him snapping his mouth shut. "Okay, that's good. That's only a few miles from here. One of us will take you and pick you up. Make sure you're getting here and there safely. I have a back entrance, so it shouldn't be too hard."

"I can't ask you to do that for me-"

"You're not," she cut him off. "I'll help you cover up some of your worst injuries, too. You'll probably just have to make up a story, like you got in a car accident, okay? Now, about your stuff…" He would need clothes and school supplies, at the very least, but from where?

"I can find a way to get some stuff out of my house."

"Absolutely not!" Both Lightning and Snow exchanged glances, surprised at having insisted the same thing at the same time.

Lightning disregarded it. "It's too dangerous. We'll just have to get you some stuff from the store." Easier said than done. She still had piles of bills stacked on top of her head. _Speaking of debts._ "Hey, Hope? How are we paying for Alexander's bills? Didn't those surgeries accumulate to north of seven thousand gil?"

"You don't have to worry about Alexander. Or me, for that matter. I've got it covered." He fidgeted at the disbelief in their eyes. "I've got a card for emergencies. It draws from a secure account dad doesn't know about. Mom said that if anything happened I could rely on it, until I can rely on myself."

_Well, at least she's good for something._ "And you're sure you have enough for the hospital, and for school?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, then. I suppose we should get shopping. Best to get it done and out of the way." She stood up from her position and turned towards Snow. "Did you bring a shirt like I asked?" She held up Hope's torn-up, blood stained one from before. "I don't think this will cut it."

"Oh, right." He jogged out to the living room and came back with a gray sweatshirt. "It's probably a bit big, but it was the smallest I had. Serah, um…"

Snow didn't finish, but he didn't have to. Lightning could remember seeing her sister wearing it around the house on occasions. She grabbed it and handed it to Hope, not letting those memories linger.

Hope took it, mildly uncomfortable, but feeling too cold and exposed to deny the new garment. "Thank you." He threw it on, glad to see that it wasn't too baggy on his slender frame.

"No problem. Happy to help."

"I'm going to go grab a coat and meet you at the door. Be right back." Lightning sped up to her room and slammed the door shut behind her, taking in a large gulp of air. She rose a hand in front of her face, watching as it shook. _I was fine. Why now? Why do I have to feel this way now?_ She wanted to help Hope, but even just the prospect of setting foot outside of her home, seeing and speaking to new people, had her downing a couple of her Valium as she attempted to ease her racing heart. She couldn't leave. She wanted to, but she couldn't.

Her home was her haven, her safety zone. Nothing could happen, nothing more could be taken from her if she just remained in her bubble. The walls around her were her fortress, solid and built to protect. Snow had called it her prison. Said that the walls only held the illusion of safety, when really they stood to keep her contained and chained to the past.

But still, she never left. Just going to the store was traumatic, as the last time had proven. It had taken everything in her to go to Serah's grave, and even that had taken her over a year.

The night before had been different. Hope's dog's life had been on the line. It had been enough to shut down her irrational anxieties until the disaster had been averted. But now… there was no emergency, no adrenaline high to ride on. Nothing but her crippling thoughts and shaky resolve.

Walking over to her closet, she went to grab a jacket, hoping to take it one step at a time until she made it out of the house, but her hand never made it to the hanger. It paused halfway and she couldn't get it to go any farther. _I can't do it. I just can't._

"I'll take him."

Lightning spun around to face Snow, more than a little put off by the fact that she hadn't heard him enter. She was really getting tired of being so easily caught off guard. "It's my responsibility."

"Wrong. He's our responsibility now," Snow walked further in and led the roseate over to her bed. She sat down without much coercion. "Look at you. You're in no shape for this. You haven't even slept. Just take it easy. I got him."

He was right, even though she was loathe to admit it. "Make sure you don't go anywhere his father is likely to frequent."

"Like that's hard. If he spends that much gil to pay for schooling, I doubt he'd be slumming it in our stores, Lightning."

She gave an amused sigh before becoming serious again. "Take care of him."

The concern in her tone had him more than a little taken aback. "I got him, sis." She had nothing to worry about. He may not have known the kid very well, but this gave him the perfect opportunity to fix that.

* * *

"Okay, so. Clothes or school supplies first?"

Hope shifted, uneasy on his feet. He really didn't think he needed a chaperone, but he couldn't deny that the man's presence made him feel more secure. He would have preferred Lightning, but Snow had informed him that she had needed her rest. He was sure she did, after everything he was putting her through. "You know, this is stupid. I can just sneak into my house when he's gone. I'd be-" Snow was suddenly right in front of him, and Hope took a couple cautious steps back at the look in his eyes.

"What do you think he'll do to you when he finds you?" Snow peered down at the kid, walking towards him until Hope stepped back into a wall. "You hit him back. You ran and he doesn't know where you are. It's his worst nightmare. He doesn't know where you are, what you're doing, or who you could be showing those bruises to."

Hope's knee jerk reaction was to run, but even if the man didn't have him crowded back into the concrete, his penetrating stare had him pinned. They were attracting the attention of a few passersby, but the blond didn't seem to care.

"We're trying to protect you, but we can't if you aren't willing to protect yourself."

"I am!" Hope shouted, his annoyance overcoming his fear.

"And what if he came home while you were still there, huh? What if he pretended to leave just to lure you in?" Snow scoffed when he didn't reply. "Take this shit seriously. I like you and I want to help you, but I'm not putting my family in danger if you're just going to end up throwing your life away."

Snow stepped back, and Hope finally felt his lungs begin to work again. "I do take this seriously. After what happened to Alexander, I… I won't let that happen to anyone else. No one else gets hurt because of me."

"That's what I want to hear." Snow smiled at his declaration and gave him a hearty pat on the back. He probably should have thought that through more, since the action had Hope hissing in pain. The teen looked confused by his change in mood, but he just wanted to make sure that he wasn't going to do anything thoughtless and get Lightning hurt. "Let's get you clothes first. You have some blood on your jeans."

He followed, still a little shaken by being backed into a corner, but even more irritated at being treated like he was underestimating his circumstances.

"What are you, like 5'4"?"

"I'm 5'6", thank you very much," Hope grumbled. "And still growing."

"Right, okay…" Snow shuffled through a few shirts on the rack as Hope sorted through a pile of sweatpants. "How about this?"

He turned to look at the shirt in Snow's hand before his face twisted in disapproval. "We may live in a coastal town, but I'm not wearing a tropical shirt."

Frowning down at his pick, he nodded before putting it back. "Yeah, you're right. Doesn't really match your eyes." Hope gave a reluctant chuckle and Snow smiled at loosening him up some. "What about this one?"

"You think the color of mustard matches my eyes?"

"You sound insulted."

"Maybe you're just color blind."

"Now I feel insulted."

Hope couldn't fight the grin coming across his face. "I think I can pick out my own clothes."

"Probably a good idea. Serah always said I was terrible at shopping…"

Hope stopped, the lighter mood easily broken by the comment. "I'm sorry… about Serah."

Snow didn't reply. He waited as Hope picked out a few articles of clothing, watched as certain movements caused him to cringe or have to outright stop for a while until he could move again. As a person who grew up in multiple orphanages, he had seen his fair share of abused kids. He'd gotten so used to not being able to do anything for them that he supposed he'd gotten a little callous to the cause. This kid wasn't just another abuse victim. He was a person. A person Lightning had chosen to take under her wing. A person Serah had cared for and watched after.

"When are you going to tell Lightning?"

The silveret stopped, looking to him with a furrowed brow. "Tell her what?"

"That your mom's dead."

Hope never thought four simple words could sting so easily. "How did you-"

"I have a horrible memory. I'm surprised I haven't burnt down my house with how many times I've left the stove on, and, god, don't ever ask me to remember a birthday or what a store clerk looked like after having _literally_ just left the store. But ever since Serah… passed I can remember everything about her with perfect clarity. Everything she said, every moment we shared, everything…"

Hope bit his lip, chest tightening at Snow's utterance. He'd known who Snow was the minute he'd seen him in Lightning's kitchen. Serah may have stopped babysitting him a few years back, but that didn't mean he didn't still see her across the street, or see who she brought home. He underestimated the two's closeness, though. Hearing Snow refer to himself as Lightning's brother served as a bit of a shock. He had no idea she'd gotten married.

"I remember her being pretty upset one day. A… Nora Estheim had died and she wanted to go to the funeral. She just wanted to pay her respects and say goodbye to the woman that had been so kind to her, but the funeral was closed to the public."

Hope felt his throat constrict. "Dad didn't want a lot of people there."

"Your dad's an asshole."

"He was grieving."

"So were other people-"

"I know that!" Hope scrubbed the tear from his face as soon as the first fell. He didn't bother with the rest. "Dad, he…" he gasped in a breath, sucking on his lower lip as he stifled his coming cries. "He didn't even let me in."

Snow winced, feeling even worse for bringing it up. He let the teen calm down before taking his chosen clothing from his arm and guiding him to the backpacks. He wasn't going to say anything more on the subject, but it turned out that he didn't have to.

"I'll tell her. It's just that right now…"

Snow clapped him on the back, gentler this time. "I get it."

* * *

Lightning couldn't sleep. She'd been up for over twenty-four hours and gone through quite the stressful event, but she found that even with all that, her mind still raced too much to get any shut eye. "What was the point of staying home if I can't even sleep?" The ceiling gave her no answer, so she got up and decided to try and get something done.

The guest bedroom was where Snow usually slept when he stayed over, so the room wasn't in too bad of shape. She still felt compelled to change the sheets and wash the bedspread. The furniture was covered in dust so she took care of that, too. She figured some light vacuuming couldn't hurt, and by the time she was done with the bedroom, she only felt more revved up. She needed to do more, be useful.

She'd resolved to go downstairs to do some dishes, but stopped as she came to pass Serah's door. It was open just a crack, enough for Lightning to see all of the same bright colors and pretty decorations that she knew so well. Slender fingers traced along the wooden block letters that hung from her door. The color was dull, the paint chipped after clacking against the same door for over twelve years. She still remembered the day Serah came running at their mom in the store, her tiny arms full with letters as she declared that if she wasn't allowed to get them, she would die.

Lightning hadn't been in the room since Serah had been alive. She could never allow herself to step foot inside, to taint the last bit of light that still lingered within her home. Snow was the only one who ever went in. She could hear him talking in there sometimes, speaking to Serah like she was still right there listening. And maybe he thought she was, in some way. She wished she could share in his delusions.

It was usually so easy to ignore this room in her hall, but today she felt a new pull, a strange tug on her heart that demanded she enter. Her hand fell from the letters to the door itself. She knew there was no reason go in. It would only be empty, like the rest of the house. It was devoid of purpose, like her life. Whatever peace Snow found inside would only be hell for her.

Despite that knowledge, she remained there for a while, hand poised to let some part of Serah back into her life. Maybe once inside, she could imagine that she really was there, writing in her journal on her bed, or dancing to her favorite song. Serah would be there and she wouldn't feel so alone anymore.

Lightning rolled her eyes at such thoughts. "Yeah, and maybe my parents will be in there, too."

She continued her way back downstairs, the door firmly shut behind her.


	7. The Emotions that Hinder Us

_The candle flickered in the dark. Hope sat in the center of his room, adorned in the suit meant for his final goodbye to his mother. Alexander laid beside him, head between his paws, as he gave his human the comfort of his presence._

_Hope stared into the small flame, trying not to think of how his mother's service was going. He could picture the church, such a grand place that used to give his mother such peace, the place that she used to call her second home, empty and devoid of life. The only person there to see her off, to say their goodbyes and wish her well, was the one person she'd died trying to get away from._

_It turned his stomach knowing that it wasn't what she would have wanted. It certainly wasn't what she deserved. She had been a woman full of life. She'd lived every day to the fullest, facing both friends and enemies with nothing but kindness. So many people adored her. Her funeral should have been filled with those people. She should have gotten to say goodbye. She should have gotten that closure._

_Instead all she got was him. A man who was as worthless a husband as he was a father. But even after everything that had happened, after everything his father had put her through, he still loved her. At least his mother had one person to be there for her, and at least he loved her._

_After his father had yelled at him, told him that a murderer could never attend their victim's funeral, and locked him up inside, Hope made do with what he had. He took one of his cinnamon roll candles, one his mom had made in her old crafting days, and lit it on a table in his room. A picture of his mother sat by its side, held within the nicest frame he could find. It was a picture of when she was younger, her hair long and her smile tired, but unmistakably full of glee. She had once said that it was her favorite picture of herself, even with her swollen belly._

_"I'm sorry, mom. I hope that this is enough. I just wanted… I wanted to say goodbye, so…" His last words wouldn't come. He'd wanted so badly to say his last goodbyes to his mother before her spirit left the world. Now, he realized he couldn't. Goodbye was not what he wanted. And it wasn't what he would give._

* * *

"I'm going to put the groceries up before I check on Lightning, okay? Why don't you just set your bags down and rest on the couch? You're looking a little pale."

Snow took his bags into the kitchen and left Hope on his own in the living room. The teen stood there, at a loss of what to do.

It was official. He was staying with Lightning. But this knowledge, this certain fact, didn't make it feel any more real. He still felt like a stranger within someone else's home. Someone else's life. He still felt like a dirty little leech sucking the kindness from people he didn't deserve. Had he really been stupid enough to think that this was alright? That morning he'd accepted his place within Lightning's home. But now all he wanted was to go home. To go where he belonged.

He couldn't. As Snow had so nicely pointed out, he had no real home to go back to anymore. Only a death sentence awaited him. And going back would be a disrespect towards both Lightning and Alexander. His dog had put his life on the line to save him. Lightning was willing to go through so much to help him. He couldn't leave now, no matter how much he felt like he'd earned that spot at his father's feet.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Hope sat on the couch, hand on his aching side as it pained him greatly. He was coming down with a fever, but he didn't feel the need to do much about it. Some shuffling pulled his attention over to the entrance of the kitchen. Hope jumped up from the couch as Snow entered with an unconscious Lightning in his arms. "Is she okay?!"

Snow nodded, a fond smile crossing his lips even as concern creased his face. "I found her at the table. She probably couldn't sleep and worked until she passed out. Happens more often than I'd like, but what can I do? Nothing stops her." The large man shrugged, cradling his sister closer to his chest. The look of panic on Hope's face was comforting. It was good to know that the kid cared about Lightning's well-being as much as she seemed to care about his. "I'm going to go put her upstairs. You should rest, too."

"I'm fine, really. I think I'm going to stay up until the vet calls again."

"Okay. Just sit tight, then."

He watched as Snow turned away, ascending the stairs with precious cargo in hand. Lightning looked so worn out in his arms, and Hope realized that maybe she was in need of some help, too.

Hope went to sit back down on the couch but a stack of mail half-hazardly strewn across the end table caught his attention first. He took a moment to collect them, his eyes scanning the exterior of the envelopes and a few of the open letters before his brain could think better of the action. The bulk of them were bills, and Hope frowned down at the urgent lettering that marked them. The depth of her debt was obvious by those few statements alone. It left him feeling worse than before.

"I don't think she wanted you to know about those." Hope faced Snow as he came back down. "But I suppose it's alright. It isn't a reality she can hide from forever."

"Why is she so behind? What happened?"

"Serah died. That's what happened."

Such a blunt statement left Hope stunned. He'd said it as easily as if they had been discussing the weather. The teen could tell by the look on Snow's face that he was surprised by his own clipped detachment as well.

The man slumped down onto the bottom step of the stairs, his posture making him seem so much smaller than his true stature should have allowed. A gloved hand came to his forehead, resting there as he studied the floor. "It's about time we face that. Serah's gone. There isn't anything that's going to bring her back. All we're doing is living like time's stopped. But as you can see from those statements in your hand, time could never be so kind as to stop for the bereaved."

Hope knew that all too well. There had been many times where he'd wished to just carve out his own little space in the world, untouched by the ugliness of people and time, just so he could grieve freely and completely. But grief was never really complete, was it? It always sat there, slowly getting smaller, until only faint, but indestructible traces remained to prick you every time you thought you were okay. He'd had a friend die once. The remnants of their death still lingered there, still pained him when he thought about that past. He vaguely wondered how long it would be until his grief for his mother transformed into the same small scar, instead of the gaping wound it still was. How long would it be until he could think about his mom and not feel like crying? Like slinking away until the world passed on? Was that what Snow was going through? Lightning, too?

"Lightning quit shortly after she died. She couldn't work in that condition. So lost and distracted. Before Serah got sick, she was like the terminator," Snow added with a laugh. "Nothing could stand before her and live long after the encounter. They called her The Goddess of Death. That's how ruthless she was. But after…"

Hope thought back to the Lightning he'd heard about. The soldier that was as icy as they came. He'd heard about her skills from Serah, and even from some of the children of other military personnel around the block. How she could take on a whole squadron alone better than a team of veteran soldiers. How her presence alone could command an entire fleet. How she had been one of the only survivors of one of the most notorious missions during the quest for a treaty with the Pulsian populace. All of those stories fit into one cohesive form of a stone cold killer, a life meant only for the battlefield.

But that didn't fit with the Lightning he knew now. He thought back to her swinging at his side, sitting beside him on his doorstep, bonding with his dog, yelling at him to get help, bandaging up his wounds, caring about him when no one else did. She was a human being. She got angry when she was mad and wept when she was sad. She was fragile enough to fall apart when she lost someone she loved, but strong enough to help someone else survive even when she herself was struggling to do the same.

_The Goddess of Death. What a nasty name._ Even just thinking those words made him feel disgusted with himself. He could only wonder what kind of impression that title had left on Lightning.

Snow shook his head. "So without any income or pension, she doesn't have anything to pay off Serah's medical bills. They just keep growing. Lousy assholes. All they care about is money," he growled. "They don't give a damn about who they're taking it from."

The envelopes crinkled loudly in his palms, and it was only then that he realized that his grip on them had grown to be so tight. "Is there any way we can help?"

Snow smiled softly, but gave a gruff huff in annoyance. "I've tried, but she won't accept anything. I even tried to pay off a bill behind her back, but… when threatening me with violence didn't work to stop me, she threatened to go off her meds if I even touched another bill of hers."

"So?" Hope spoke, a little irritated by the fact that this problem had been allowed to fester into an even worse one. "She could lose everything she owns. Her car. Her house. Owing this much money is a big deal."

"So is her medication. I don't think-" Emotion glazed over his eyes, a despair beyond words capturing his visage. "I don't think she'll last without them…"

Hope shut his eyes tightly, as if he could block out the images that sentence inspired. Suicidal Lightning. Gone Lightning. Dead Lightning. He understood the predicament now.

A light ringing in Hope's pocket, accompanied by one in Snow's, pulled him out of the horrific, waking nightmare his mind had produced. Snow answered his phone as he disappeared into the next room. With a quick breath, he drew up his own, his strict frown softening into a cautious smile at the ID on his phone.

"This is Hope Estheim."

" _Hello, this is Marielle from the Veterinary Care Hospital calling about Alexander Estheim."_

"Is he okay?"

" _He's doing great, actually. His hip surgery went well. Dr. Verret was able to get all of his hip bone fragments out and the rejoining and stitching went well. We have to let his body rest for a couple of days before we can operate again, but we already have his next surgery scheduled. Alexander is sleeping off the anesthesia right now, but he should be awake in about an hour. You can come see him if you like."_

He felt his heart jump into his throat at the suggestion. Oh, how he wished to see him, to hold his giant, fluffy body in his arms and know that he was alive. Truly, wholly alive. But how would he get there? He couldn't ask any more from Lightning or Snow. They'd done too much for him already. And could he really face his dog after what had happened? Knowing that Alexander was in this mess because of him. Could he really pop in to see him, and then turn around and abandon him to strangers once again?

"H-how is he?" he asked tentatively, a strange fear coiling in his gut.

The woman's voice was very warm, honest in a way that soothed easily. _"He's such a sweet dog. I haven't spent too much time with him personally, but everyone here is smitten with him. You've got quite the charmer for a pooch. And he's strong. He's seen through the worst of this."_

He sucked in a sharp breath and chuckled. "Thank you. Please tell Dr. Verret thank you, too. Keep me updated, please."

" _We will. Do think about coming in."_

"I will." He hung up the phone before his guilt could grow any worse. He tossed the phone onto the couch, away from himself, like the device was responsible for the vicious hook left in his heart and not his own actions. He turned away from it as Snow's voice reentered the room seconds before his body did.

"I'm going to have to go out for a bit." Snow made it to the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob, a familiar form of hesitation stilling his limbs. "I know this is a lot to ask, but look out for her, alright? She won't want you to, but do it anyway."

He found himself nodding automatically. "Of course."

"I shouldn't be gone too long. Get some rest. I'll be back."

With one last tentative glance back, Snow left, his heavy footfalls trailing off into silence. Hope fell back into the couch cushions, uncaring towards the distinct shape of his phone beneath his thigh. He let his weight settle there, thoughts of his injuries, his responsibilities, his dog and his father falling to the background as he succumbed to the heat flushing beneath his skin. With Snow gone and Lightning asleep, there was no need to push himself to stay awake, to stay standing and act normal. He curled into himself and not even the vivid sting of his wounded side could keep him from unconsciousness.

When sleep claimed him, it was haunted. Echoes of memory twined with the all-too-real fears of the present, and captured him in their grip. Turbulent thoughts wound around him, strangling him with every old image and every past horror, dragging him deeper into an abyss he could no longer see out of. He struggled, he always did, but no matter how he fought, the chaotic darkness only continued to surround him, binding him to a promised emptiness. Only when he had finally lost all hope of escaping did the savage tendrils retreat back to whence they came, leaving him there alone with nothing but an inky blackness to return to.

It was cold down there. At the bottom of nothing. Where even the sound of his own heartbeat was lost to him.

In the quiet stillness he was left to wonder

if he could ever escape

or only endure

A pained shout started him awake, his body jolting with enough force that he almost fell from the couch. The clouded fog left his eyes as they came to take in their surroundings. The couch beneath his body, the beveled mirror on the wall across from him, the brown door in the corner, the faint scent of lavender in the air. _Right, I'm at Lightning's._ A calm current ran through his body, soothing his ragged breaths and assuaging his racing mind.

Another sharp, but distant cry had him jumping up from his position a little too soon as the interior of Lightning's house began to waver in front of his eyes. But he put one foot in front of the other, walking as fast as the spinning room would allow, until he was finally racing up the creaky stairs and standing in front of Lightning's door. He stopped momentarily, weighing privacy against protection. He chose the latter.

With a rush of air that stemmed from a feeling of immense relief, he came to find that it was only Lightning's dreams that were paining her. Lightning was tossing and turning, her sleep just as marred as his had been, apparently. Hope made his way over to her bed, steps cautious as a wave of uncertainty overcame him. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Leave her be? Wake her up? Find a way to comfort her dormant consciousness?

There had to be something. He'd been cared for and looked after by her and she'd never asked him for anything in return. There had to be some way to repay her. With this in mind, he settled beside her on the bed, first only watching as tremors shook her body, as her brow knotted and a frown curled her lips. Her fist was tight beside her head, locked in self-protection, in anger or fear. He swallowed as he put his own hand on hers, gently guiding the fingers of her fist apart. It was difficult. Sleeping Lightning was just as strong as awake Lightning, it seemed. But he managed, soon twining their fingers together in a loose hold.

"It's alright, Lightning. Everything's fine." He had no idea what her nightmares pertained to, or if anything truly was or ever could be fine. But the words spilled forth out of a desperate desire to help. "I'm here." He grasped her hand tighter, taking note of her clammy, sweat slicked skin as he lightly swept the bangs from her eyes. "I'm right here."

Her deeply perturbed features relaxed, the tension relieved from her brow as her face fell into a tranquility he had never witnessed on the elder Farron. Her own hold tightened on his, and he felt almost just as comforted by the gesture. He stayed there as she quieted, relieved by the easy rise and fall of her chest.

He wondered if anyone else ever saw her this way, any of those people that so callously called her the Goddess of Death. If they had ever witnessed this fragility, this vulnerable side she kept hidden. This softness sealed behind hard edges and steely determination.

His eyes fell to the delicate link keeping them connected and he was suddenly overcome by a feeling filling within his breast. A raw and unadulterated emotion clawed at his heart, unrelenting in its pursuit as it attacked him over and over. It scared him, such a persistent, oppressive feeling that he couldn't recognize or even name. It left him feeling breathless, like he'd been holding his breath beneath a heavy ocean tide until he was finally allowed air. It was frightening, but also sort of exhilarating. So new, so pure, Hope found himself coming to accept this odd emotion, and even liking it.

He could feel her pulse through their contact. Strong, but quiet. He held onto that rhythmic beat, his own heart falling into step, almost as if it were dancing to the calm thrum. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. There was a strong tug, magnetic in its pull, that brought him a little closer to Lightning. He wanted to know more, feel more. If Lightning were awake, would she have felt it too? Could she now, even as her mind was lost in listless dreams and blankness?

Before Hope could explore any more of this curious pull drawing him to her, one word escaped Lightning's lips that instantly disintegrated the tenuous connection holding them together.

"Serah…"

He instantly let go of her hand, now all too aware of the space around him and the strange intentions his mind had conjured up. Standing up, he took a step back, grateful that the roseate remained sleeping despite his hurried movements. He looked down at her, this beautiful woman that held such a complicated and mysterious history. He wanted to know her, help her. But he was just a stupid kid that couldn't even help himself. He had no right to those wants. He just had to get better, get Alexander better, and then he would leave Lightning's life. He would leave, and that would be the end of it.

* * *

The rain smacked against the glass as she drove, the sound accompanied by the intermittent squeak of her windshield wipers. It was quiet within the car, a little too quiet for her liking. Hope hadn't spoken to her the whole ride, hadn't since she'd gotten up. Not even during breakfast or as she'd helped to clean and conceal his injuries, besides a word of gratitude here and there. She figured there was just stuff on his mind, which would have been understandable, or maybe he was just nervous. That didn't explain why he wouldn't look at her, though. That was telling all on its own.

She parked in the visitors' lot and as Hope reached for the handle, bag held tight in front of him and seconds from bolting out of the car, she hit the car lock on her door, barring him from escape. "Something wrong, Hope?" He flinched. Another tell that had her turning towards him more in her seat.

"I'm going to be late," he mumbled, eyes staring out at the throng of students entering the school doors.

"Hey," she said, her voice falling into its old commanding tone. Hope finally looked over at her, but it was brief, a minor meeting of their eyes before his gaze fled back out the window. "Is it the pain? Alexander? Your dad? You don't have to go to school today, you know. We can come up with something."

"I just…" There were a lot of things that were wrong. He had too much swirling around in his mind and he wished to share none of it with Lightning. "I just want to go to school." _Like a normal kid._ He could see all of his peers laughing with their friends outside, all blissfully going about their normal lives like normal people. He envied that. Life hadn't been normal for him in a long time. And there he was, make-up and bandages barely containing his secrets while he hid away from his father by taking advantage of his neighbor's kindness.

"If you ever need to talk about something, I'm here." Hope tensed up even more, and she felt a spark of agitation flare up in response. Something was wrong, very, very wrong, and her worry was beginning to surge into an uncomfortable anger. Before she could bark at him to just get a grip and _talk_ to her, she slammed her hand down on the lock, setting him free. He ran out as soon as the bolt clicked back, and then he was gone, the door slamming in his wake.

She sat back in her seat, watching as he was engulfed in the crowd. She didn't know why she cared to pay his odd behavior so much thought. She was confused, and more than a little hurt by his lack of attention. That only caused her to be confused even more. _He doesn't owe you anything. Least of all an explanation. Just be patient. He'll get over it. I think._

"But still." Sinking farther down in her chair, Lightning felt a tingling sensation ripple quietly beneath her palm. She stared down at it, eyes roving over the skin, nearly expecting something to emerge from beneath. It was the same feeling she'd woken up to. There was a distant, but distinct impression that lingered beneath the skin of her hand.

She shook it off, driving back home as she continued to question her new house guest's actions.

* * *

Hope maneuvered his way through the halls, avoiding eyes and ears and evading any accidental bumps or brush-ups. When he made it to his homeroom with three minutes to spare, he slipped into one of the last seats in the back row. Content to go unnoticed he made himself small, pulling out a book to flit through as everything went on around him.

He could do this. Nobody would notice him. Nobody could see beneath the thin veneer of calm that was keeping him together.

The bell rang and their teacher spoke from the front of the classroom, welcoming them back and going over the usual rules and expectations, everything a near rendition of the year prior for the new and returning students. He tuned most of it out, along with the idle chatter of his peers, as he focused on the day that laid ahead. It was no offense to Mr. Katzroy. The man was a good teacher who seemed to genuinely care for his students. But he just couldn't focus on anything but the quick pace of his heart and the constant mantra going through his head to _hide, conceal, act calm but be on guard_.

He made it through the duration of class without incident and was relieved as the bell rang to signify its end. He just had to do this five more times and survive through lunch. He had nearly made it out the door behind the rest of his classmates when he was stopped by an unexpected call.

"Hey, Hope. Mind if we speak for a minute?"

Hope stopped abruptly, his shoes squeaking in protest against the linoleum floor. Attempting to shrug off the anxiety beating in his chest, he turned around as casually as he could, striding quickly over to his teacher's desk. "Not at all, but I don't want to be late to my next class, Mr. Katzroy."

"You kids. How many times do I gotta tell ya to just call me Sazh? And if I'm not mistaken, your next class is right down the hall. Don't worry, I won't keep ya too long."

"Yeah, sorry, Mr. Sazh." The older man rose a brow. Hope jumped to correct himself. "Ah, I mean Sazh."

"No problem." He sat back in his chair, eyes falling to the splint on his fingers and then coming back up to look at the scabbed over lip. "Another accident?"

Hope started, before biting his lip to calm himself down. _You can do this. It's just your homeroom teacher. You've slid under his radar plenty of times before._

_Yeah, but you weren't sleeping at a neighbor's house and awaiting a call from an animal surgeon because you fucked up so badly. He's going to see. He's going to know._

"Yeah, I… just a car accident… while we were on vacation."

His eyes turned sympathetic, and Hope felt even more pathetic and undeserving of such an emotion for his lies. "That can't have been easy. Especially after the last one-"

"You know I've really got to get going. I kind of wanted to spend the first few minutes before class getting to know my teacher and all." More lies. What hurt worse was how easy it was for him to say them.

The man pursed his lips, staring at him for a few tense seconds before a faint grin came back to his features. "Alright then. Just let me know if I can help with anything, alright? That's what I'm here for."

Hope let himself relax. "Of course. Will do." He turned to leave, his thoughts already on the rest of the day. _Maybe it's not going to be so hard, after all._

"Oh, and let your father know that I'd like to see him. We never did have that conference last year."

He froze in the doorway, not daring to look back as he knew how transparent his expression had become. "O-Okay," he answered, somewhat unsteadily.

"I already sent him an email, but he's never been known to answer those things in the past."

"Got it." He walked away, steps on autopilot as his mind whirled with the consequences of such a simple message. People blurred out, becoming distorted, smudgy images in his peripheral vision. All sound slowly faded until it died completely and only his harsh breaths were reflected back at him. The hallway fell away and Hope came to a stop at one thought.

_He's going to come here._

The idea had already been present in his thoughts. He had envisioned his father standing there at the doors to the school before he had even made it inside. The man just waiting there for him to show up, knowing that it was the one place his son would definitely be. Hope had found it curious that he hadn't been there.

Until he considered that his father might decide to wait until he knew for a fact that he was at school. That he might wait to get the phone call announcing that his son had missed the day and when that call didn't come, he'd know to be there to pick him up afterward. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about walking out those front doors and seeing that face seething with anger and hatred.

But now it wasn't just a possibility. Even if he didn't show up that day, he would have to come soon. If he didn't, it would draw even more attention than his horrid lies or the splint on his finger. He dreaded seeing his father, but he dreaded everyone knowing even more. They would all find out. His teachers, his classmates, their parents, the town. They would all know what a horrible person he was. That he'd been lying to everyone he knew for two whole years. That he was a bad son that couldn't follow his father's most basic expectations. That he'd committed the ultimate sin and led his mother to her death.

He felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was suddenly on the floor. For a horrifying moment, he thought the man was already there. That he'd already come for him. He was going to punish him right there in the hallway with everyone there to bear witness to the just retribution inflicted upon his tainted soul.

"I _said_ what the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

But it wasn't his father. He was jerked forward off the ground, held up by a tight fist at the collar of his shirt. The world around him came back into focus and he came to recognize his new attacker.

"You think you can just trip me up and get away with it, Estheim? I thought you learned your lesson last time."

_Of course it would be Jensen. I just had to knock into one of the most notorious bullies in our school. Tremendous._

"What? Aren't you gonna fight back? Or are you gonna cower at my feet like last time?"

Hope braced himself as he was shoved back into the lockers behind him, one lock digging into the center of his back. He didn't dare respond. He knew from experience that there was nothing he could say to get himself out of these situations. His father, after the first time Hope had come home with bruises he didn't recognize, had told him to fight back. That he wasn't a real man if he couldn't defend his body, let alone his pride. But how was he supposed to fight back against someone that had a good three inches on him and forty more pounds of muscle? What was the point?

"Why don't you beg?" The larger teen got in his face, his grin almost sadistic in its glee. His fist was so tight on his shirt that his knuckles dug into Hope's collar bone. "Beg me to forget about your worthless existence and maybe I'll let it slide."

He wasn't going to beg. He wasn't _that_ pathetic. He would just avert his eyes and turn away. He'd fold himself into the corners of his mind until it was over.

But then a voice shot out from his memory, reminding him that ignoring his situation helped no one either. _"…it can give others the idea that they have power over you…"_

_"You have to change, Hope. Or this'll be your life - loneliness and despair..."_

Hope's eyes widened before he raised his head and gave the other boy a sound glare. "No."

Jensen's smirk fell before his features twisted with anger. "What did you just say to me?! I don't think I heard you right."

"I said," Hope grabbed onto Jensen's wrist and looked him straight in the eye, "No."

Silence.

The halls around them quieted. He could only imagine all of the people that were now witnessing their little scuffle. But he paid them no mind. All of his attention, all of his thinly built defiance, all of his fear, was trained on the bully before him.

"You're going to regret that, dweeb." He pulled his fist back, only to have someone grab it from behind him. Jensen was jerked back and Hope fell from his hold, the smaller teen's body slamming down onto the linoleum.

"I think that's enough!"

Hope peeked up from his place on the floor to see who had stepped in. It wasn't anyone he knew or recognized, and the teen looked quite out of place. His clothes were noticeably different with odd tribal patterns and a foreign script across his back.

"Why don't you mind your own business?!"

"I am. You're in front of my locker," the new boy countered. "So why don't you take this somewhere else. Or better yet, find someone your own size to pick on."

Jensen grit his teeth in response, tightening the fist at his side like he was tempted to hit the newcomer. The other student noticed, but didn't back down. Instead he tilted his head and rose an amused brow, unimpressed at the challenge.

"Tch. Not even worth it." Jensen relaxed his stance. He glanced down at the floor, sneering down at the silveret. "Later, loser." He then continued on his way, shoving past the unknown student and the spectators around them.

Hope watched him walk away, not letting his guard down until he was out of sight. A hand soon obstructed his view, however, startling him as he sat up. Wary green eyes met deep blue as the student that had interfered knelt before him. "Need some help up?"

"Thanks, but I'm alright." He stood up slowly, mindful of his side that had taken the brunt of the fall. He was lucky Lightning had bandaged it so well that morning. He didn't feel like bleeding out in front of a bunch of his peers. "And thank you."

"That's not necessary. You, uh," The teen gave a short chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You really are in front of my locker."

Hope's eyes widened as he jumped out of the way. "Oh! I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, it's really alright. It's not like it's your fault."

"I guess not…"

"Actually," the brunet began, expression sheepish, "since you're here, maybe you can do me a favor. I haven't been able to get this thing open all morning." He flicked the lock of his locker in annoyance. "Probably should have paid more attention to Yeul when she was talking about it…" he murmered, more to himself than Hope.

"Sure. What's your combo?"

The teen simply blinked back at him. "…My what?"

Hope laughed. _Not used to lockers, I suppose._ "The code to get the locker open," he clarified.

"Oh. Right. 15-7-22."

The silveret nodded, turning back to the lock and taking it in hand. His fingers moved with a practiced ease until it snapped open. "There. You've just got to remember right, left, right, and to go all the way around before the second number." When the other's face scrunched up in displeasure, Hope shrugged. "Or you can cheat and just replace it with a key lock."

"Yeah, I might just do that. Thanks, man," he replied, clapping Hope on the shoulder.

Hope winced, but quickly covered it with a smile. "It was nothing." His eyes swept the halls as he noticed just how thinned out the crowd was. "Crap! I've got to get to class. It was nice meeting you!" He made to take off, but was stopped again by the other teen.

"Hey!"

Startled by the sudden, assertive tone, Hope spun back around. "Y-Yeah?"

"The name's Noel."

Heaving a relieved sigh, Hope's expression brightened. "Hope. See you!"

Noel watched him leave until he was out of sight, his mouth falling into a grim line as his brows furrowed.

* * *

_"This is the one and only Snow Villiers! I can't get to the phone right now-"_

"Ran away again, huh? Can't say I blame you." Lightning let her phone fall through her fingers, the device bouncing on the mattress beside her. After four calls, she figured it was about time to give it up. "Where do you even go?" She cast her gaze out her bedroom window, eyes trained on the house across from hers. "And at a time like this…"

There were times when Snow would disappear. It was a relatively new development that Lightning could easily guess at the cause of. It wouldn't last more than a few days, five at the most. Nothing for her to get concerned about. He would wander back after his time on his own and be the same old idiot she knew well. No lasting marks would be left from his time away, the only remnant of his sudden vacation would be a new light to his gaze, as if some of the darkness that resided there had been lifted. He was always calmer, more at peace. She never asked him where he went or what he did. She was curious, maybe a little jealous, maybe even a little vexed, but some part of her didn't want to know.

Brushing an errant strand of hair from her eye, she got up off of her bed and left the room. It was time to pick Hope up and she felt the pricks of agitation come back at her as she remembered their conversation that morning. Hope's mood had dampened her own and all she could think about was what might have caused him to be so withdrawn. She hoped his time at school had lifted his spirits some.

It hadn't.

He sat beside her in the car, just as silent as he was before. He was curled against the door, about as far away from her as he could get. Did he not trust her now? Had she done something to upset him? Why couldn't he speak to her? Why couldn't he _look_ at her?

When she cut the engine behind her house, she let herself voice her concern. "Is Alexander okay? Did something-"

"He's fine."

_A reply_. Curt and a little rude, but it was a reply. "How fine?" The teen heaved a tired sigh, and she felt her agitation grow at his put out attitude.

"Surgery went through with no complications. He has his next in two or so days."

"Why aren't you more excited for him?" Surprise registered in his expression for a brief moment before a troubled look of contemplation took over.

"I… don't want to get my hopes up."

She could understand that. She knew how horrible it was to allow yourself to feel safe and happy, only for it all to be whisked away too soon. Only a fool fell for such traps. Her gaze fell down to her hands, her frail, useless hands that couldn't ever hang on to those she loved. They were forever stained with the blood of her family, marred by the wretched curse of loneliness and destruction. Her hands clenched into tight fists, nails digging into worn skin.

"I don't want…"

Lightning's hands loosened as she refocused on the young man beside her.

"I don't want this to be happening. I don't want Alexander to be hurting. I don't want my father to hate me. I don't-" _want my mother to be gone…_

"What _do_ you want, Hope?" The rain began to fall again, lightly tapping against the car. Lightning focused on each drop as they struck the windshield, the water sliding down the cool glass to pool against her windshield wipers. Dwelling on what happened, on what he couldn't control, wouldn't help him. It wouldn't help either of them. Just like they couldn't stop the rain from falling, they couldn't go back and change the course their lives had taken. They had to face the present, and keep going.

"I just want to be free."


End file.
